OH NO! WE'RE NOT? OH YES, YOU ARE!
by Spirit Burner AKA Chick Feed
Summary: It's the festive season, the Trickster wants to share the joy of Pantomime with Sam and Dean and encourage them to have fun. Of course, being the Trickster, there's only one way to involve the boys! Co-starring a host of familiar faces, for one night only, CINDERS-ELLA. (AU in that there's no reference to the Trickster also being Gabriel ). Twists, turns, hurts and smiles galore!
1. Chapter 1

**OH NO! WE'RE NOT...? OH YES, YOU ARE!**

_Christmas is coming and so the Trickster decides  
__the boys should have the opportunity to enjoy a  
__traditional English pantomime in all it's glorious chaos.  
__Trickster Enterprises proudly presents : __**Cinderella**_

**-o-o-o-o-**

**Prologue**

"_Mr Winchesters. Two minute call Mr Winchesters_."

Sam blinked open his eyes at hearing someone calling him and Dean. Before he could take in his surroundings, he screwed his eyes closed again in response to a gigantic yawn, during which he wondered _Two minute call for what?_ At the same time he developed the distinct impression that he wasn't lying on the bed which he knew with absolute certainty he had crashed out on the previous night. Already now dreading the day ahead, he slowly opened his eyes, and found himself staring down at someone's thighs. The thighs appeared to be covered with black satin shorts. Things got more bizarre when he noticed the well muscled legs emerging from the shorts. They appeared to have thick white pantyhose on them. Gazing at the legs he began to notice a pressure against his forehead. It occurred to him that, if he were somehow seated in such a position as to be resting his forehead on the surface of, for example, a table; then there was the terrible possibility that the thighs he was staring at were his own! A sudden crash to his side jolted Sam's head up, and he froze.

"_Gharrgh_ ooff. ... The Hell? Where...? Wha'...? What..The.._Fudge_..Am I _wearing_? **_Sammmmy_**!"

"Up here."

Dean's chair had tipped over backwards and onto the floor, with Dean himself still sat on it. The two Hunters looked at one another in silence from their respective positions, each contemplating what the other was currently dressed in. On the up side, Sam thought that Dean actually carried off the turquiose colour of his satin, lace edged frock coat very well and, at least his brother's pantyhose were a more subdued claret colour. Sam decided that seeing Dean wandering around in over knee pirate style black boots was likely to take some getting used to however. Having cast an eye over Sam's silver grey ensemble, Dean closed his eyes again and groaned.

"Ah, crap. Please, no, not this! Tell me I'm dreamin'."

"_Stage call Mr Winchester and Mr Winchester. Thirty seconds_."

"If this' just your dream, do you mind dreaming this makeup off my face and dreaming me back into my own clothes?"

Startled, Dean opened his eyes again.

"_Makeup_?"

"Don't laugh, you're wearing it too."

Rolling himself off the chair, Dean hauled himself upright and glared around what was very clearly a theatre dressing room.

"Alright! _Show yourself,_ you little piece of sh..."

"Uh Uh Uhh! Language Deanie. Don't want to upset the kiddiewinkles now, do we?"

The Trickster emerged out of a rack hung with brightly coloured costumes, grinning and wagging his finger at Dean. Dean lunged. It was as if he'd hit an invisible brick wall and, no matter how hard he pushed, he just couldn't quite reach the smirking Trickster.

"_Stage call Mr Winchesters. We need you on stage, **now**_!"

"Oops! Sounds like you both need to get a move on, your public awaits and all that."

Still sat at his brightly lit dressing table, Sam worked hard to maintain a semblance of calm.

"How about we simply refuse?"

The trickster grinned widely, although he kept a wary eye on Dean who still struggled to break through the barrier and reach him.

"Then I'll just keep re-rolling this part over and over till you agree. So, instead of pointlessly wasting time, I suggest you go to it guys. I'll be out front. Break a leg the pair of you. Don't you just _adore_ panto season?"

The trickster disappeared, ignoring Dean's dark mutterings about the pleasure he'd get from breaking the Trickster's damn legs for him the first chance he got.

**o-o-o-o**

**Chap 1**

Dean stumbled forwards as the invisible barrier collapsed with the departure of the Trickster.

"Careful. Don't tear your pantyhose."

"Get lost! Where's my damn clothes, they gotta be around here somewhere!"

The door to the dressing room was flung wide open from the outside.

"_You two_! Out here and on that stage _right now_! The compare's covered by getting some kid out the audience caterwauling some cutesy crap or other. She's not going down well with my _paying_ customers, so go do what I've hired you to do or you'll regret it. _Geddit_?"

Dean gawped at Zachariah in disbelief, only moving when Sam grabbed him by the arm and physically propelled him out of the dressing room and into a heaving back stage corridor. Still keeping a firm hold of Dean, Sam immediatly had to flatten himself and his brother up against the wall in order to let a chattering group of nubile pantomime fairies go past. One drew to a halt and winked cheekily up at Sam.

"Hey Sam! Don't forget to dump big brother here and meet me in the upper circle later. We can pick up where we left off babe, know what I'm sayin'?"

Stunned, Sam stared at the back of Ruby's head as she scampered off to catch up with the rest of the fairy troop. Zachariah's angry voice shook him out of his stupor.

"Stage is that way boys. The audience might think you're special guest stars, but you're not so damn special to me that I won't make certain you never play this town again if you don't **_get a friggin' move on_**! GO!"

"Dean, come on, let's get this over with."

"The fairy...Was that...?"

"Shuddup and get going bro. I'll be right behind you."

"Fine, but keep your eyes off my ass. How come your fancy coat's longer than mine?"

"It's not long dude."

"It manages to cover your butt, mine don't."

"At least with yours you can see that you're wearing shorts. Mine makes it look like I've just got a minidress and pantyhose on!"

"Yeah, or surgical stockings. Which way?"

"Over there, where that guy's waving and _Holy Hell in a handbag_..._What_ is that godawful _noise_?"

"My guess? The caterwauling' kid. No wonder they want her off. _Jeeze_!"

As the brother's approached the stage wing, the child's cruel rendition of _The_ _Good Ship Lollipop_ was brought to an abrupt halt by a male voice.

"_Thank you_ little lady, but I'm afraid we hav'ta let you go back to your seat now 'cos our guest star's carriage has _finally_ pulled up outside. Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, big hand there for Lillith. Wasn't she just _adorable_? Voice like an angel. Could've listened to her all evenin'...Thought we might hav'ta actually, boom boom! Only kiddin' honey, off you go, there's a good girl. Collect a goody bag on your way. ... What? ... Oh. Hell no! You _can't_ take two, _greedy little _... Once more everybody, let's hear it for_ Lillith_! ... ... There you go. And now...On with the show folks!"

The owner of the voice raced off stage and glared at both Dean and Sam.

"What the Hell kept you two? Actually, know what? I don't _give_ a shit. Just you boys get out there and do your thing...Friggin' actors, think they're so friggin' special..."

Rufus hurried on his way, still mumbling under his breath. The scrawney little guy who had waved Sam and Dean over put a hand on Dean's shoulder.

"Ok guys. Here comes your cue, get ready to make an entrance."

Dean glared down at the guy, and opened his eyes wide in surprise.

"Garth? Is that you?"

Garth frowned back up at Dean, then switched his focus onto Sam.

"Has he been sluggin' the whiskey again? Who the fudge _else_ am I likely to be? Idjit! Just make sure he stay's in the game out there. This audience? Likely to eat you alive if you screw up. Now git!

**-o-o-o-**

**_So, now all that's needed are your nominations for characters and who should play them. Suggestions welcome :D  
_****_SB x_**


	2. Chapter 2

**_Story will continue in Chap 3 after this "little" aside._**

**Chap 2. - What's a Pantomime?**

_For Elfinblue & MB64_

It was requested that I explain what a pantomime (panto) is, so I'll give it a go.

-o-o-o-

i. Live stage play, very slap stick comedy in nature, commonly based around popular fairy tales and goodie vs baddie. Always includes singing and dancing.

ii. Mostly aimed at kids, but always with the double entendres for the adults. So popular that adults without kids also go along. Comedic commentary always reflects current affairs.

iii. Sets and costumes always a visual feast, bright primary colours galore, often over the top, sometimes ridiculous, sometimes exotic and, for the principle characters (e.g. Cinderella and the Prince), usually stunning.

iv. Thoroughly encourages audience participation, including standing traditions as follows:

**Boo, hiss, boooo** (and so on) - Whenever the baddie appears. All the baddies go OTT and really play up to the audience (especially the kids), threatening them with things like _Cheer for me or I'll lock up every member of One Direction and cut their hair off._

**It's behind you!** - Yelled enthusiastically when characters are, for example, looking for something, like Jack's cow. The characters tell the audience what they're looking for, and ask the audience to help by shouting out if they see it. Of course, whenever Jack's cow appears at the back of the stage, the characters are facing and interacting with the audience. By the time they turn around to look, the cow (or whatever) for the first few times will have gone off stage again. Needs timing and drives the kiddies to near hysteria until character and cow (or whatever) finally spot each other.

**Oh yes it is - **Mass audience response to any character claiming "Oh no it isn't" (Or visa versa).

Characters also throw candy and small gifts out into the audience at random points - adult vs kid stampede, (hee hee).

v. Cross dressing (stems from back in the day when all stage actors were male). Certain (usually comedic) female characters are always played by men. Very different to drag artists, in panto there's no attempt to portray a convincing female. This is where the Pantomime Dame comes into the whole thing. Think Dame Edna Everage on Acid! Animals (the goose in mother Goose, Jack's cow etc) are properly played by people in costume and act as if they're brighter than some of the comedic characters, giving them the run around. At one point the lead male character (e.g. Peter Pan or Prince Charming) was always played by an attractive female in very short outfits and always a favourite with the adult males in the audience! Not unusual these days to be played by a male, but both the female and the male lead are always handsome/pretty and usually the only two characters to play their roles straight whilst the comedy and chaos happens all around them.

vi. The good guys always win and everyone always lives happily ever after.

So, there you have it. The closest adult equivalent of a "modern" panto would be going to see **The Rocky Horror Picture Show** live. Hope this helps. Back to the story next chapter.

SB x


	3. Chapter 3

**Chap 3**

**-o-o-o-**

Someone within the group huddled in the wings area suddenly banged on a drum three times. A male, voice from the stage responded.

"I believe that sound is to signal to us that there is somebody at the make believe door."

Two further intentionally screechy and strangled, yet still clearly male, voices began to chant _There's somebody at the door, there's somebody at the door. _The audience enthusiastically joined in_. _Garth looked from Sam to Dean impatiently.

"Well? What're you waiting for? Go on!"

Sam looked wide eyed and hopeful at Dean.

"What? Why're you...? Oh._ Nooo_! No _way_ I'm going out there _first_ dude."

"But, you're the eldest!"

"Yup, and I've decided _you're_ going first."

Garth sighed, then summoning all the strength he could muster he shoved the brothers as far as he was able, beyond the shelter of the stage curtains and out onto the open stage. It was an undignified, stumbling kind of entrance, but the audience still erupted into cheers, applause and, horror of horrors, wolf whistles. Some wise guy amongst the public yelled out loudly _Nice legs, shame about the face_s. Scarlet with embarrassment and desperately tugging on the hem of his frock coat in a hopeless attempt to make it seem longer, Sam smiled weakly and gave the audience a quick bow of his head. Dean, however, had frozen like the proverbial rabbit caught in car headlights, and was standing stock still, staring out at the audience in the packed theatre, a kind of nauseous look on his face.

Spotting the fact that there was a certain amount of stage fright stalling their two leading men, the owner of the non screechy male voice ad-libbed to try and help move things along.

"Look! My fake, and rather disturbingly manly looking, daughters! It is the strangely named Prince Charming and his brother, the equally strangely named Prince Even-More-Charming. Go. Bring them to me so they may say the lines given to them and tell our audience why they honour us with a visit. Oh...It would probably be best not to mention that they have both forgot to don the velvet knickerbockers which should complete the lower half of their costumes, it may cause embarrassment."

Sam took a step backwards, his attention solely on the shorter of the two Ugly Sisters. His brain desperately trying to process the incredible sight of Bobby Singer fluttering huge spidery false eyelashes at him from the other side of the stage.

Bobby was resplendent in a huge hoop skirted dress which ended mid-calf. The material was pure Hot Pink with a pattern of randomly scattered, hand sized, acid orange, love hearts. Around Bobby's neck was strewn an incredibly long tangerine orange feather boa. Giant gaudy coloured earrings were clipped to each ear and hooked over one arm was a car crash of an extremely large purse. His legs were encased in thick stripy stockings of scarlet and yellow and on his feet he wore a pair of pink quilted slippers clearly designed to make his feet appear huge. The trashy and badly applied makeup almost faded into insignificance by comparison, except that Bobby was still sporting his usual bearded look. The over-sized brim of his straw sun hat, banded with a variety of flora and fauna as well as colourful decorative birds, butterflies, honey bees and cats, bounced crazily as Bobby, holding the hand of his stage sister, began to skip across the stage towards Sam and Dean.

Sam's stare switched to Bobby's counterpart, and Sam couldn't contain his moan of distress. The sound of his brother's upset overcame everything else, instantly drawing Dean's attention, and sending his already seriously rocked world into a further 90 degree tilt.

"No. No...It...It can't...?"

Hand in hand with Bobby, dressed in matching style but in colours consisting of bright blues and yellows, and with a broad red, lipstick coated, smile on his face, was John Winchester.

Sam felt his legs grow suddenly weak and he grabbed hold of Deans shoulder to steady himself. Feeling the slight tremor in Sam's grip, Dean's emotions shifted gear. Moving from shock, through hope and finally going on up to explosive fury.

"NO! ENOUGH! **_Show _**_yourself you half pint __**dick**_! _You __**don't**__ get to do this_! _You __**can't**_ _do this!"_

On hearing Dean's shout, the Wicked Stepmother rapidly tottered his way to the front of the stage. Castiel was beautifully arrayed in a scarlet, full length Edwardian style day dress, complete with old fashioned high collared neckline, from which cascaded bountiful layers of black lace dotted with sequins that flashed metallic blues and gem like greens beneath the stage lighting. His dress came furnished with an enormous bustle at the back. He carried a black lacy parasol glittering with a profusion of sequins all to itself and, on his head, was perched what could only be described as a black velvet Fez. The Fez was adorned on one side with a fan of large, red ostrich tail feathers that bobbed and wafted cheerfully in time to his every movement. He drew a large breath, and shouted out to the audience **_Oh yes he can!_**

As one voice, every single member of the audience joyfully rose to the occasion, bouncing excitedly in their seats as they shouted back to Castiel, **_Oh..No! He...Can't!_**

The audience and Cas had happily completed two further renditions of the statements when Wicked Stepmother felt a firm tap on his shoulder. Castiel turned his head, straight into the oncoming fist of Prince Charming. The audience froze. In fact, everybody except Sam and Dean froze. Castiel had been freeze-framed halfway through his unconscious flight to the floor.

The Trickster strolled onto the silent stage, giving Dean a slow handclap.

"You know Deanie...I'm thinking you're missing the whole concept of this pantomime thing somehow. You _do_ understand the idea of _light hearted fun_, don't you?"

Sam planted himself directly in front of the much shorter man and drew himself up to his full impressive height, folding his arms across his chest and glaring down at the Trickster, effectively blocking the potential for a thoroughly physical response from his older brother.

"Only a sick and perverse_ moron _could describe this as light hearted fun_!_ How**_ dare_** you? What twisted little part of your _imbecilic little_ _mind_ thinks Dean and I will _allow _you to make a mockery of the people we love? People we have lost?_ Exactly_ how much of a **_douche bag_** are you? Trickster? You're nothing more than a walking, talking, infantile _joke _who hasn't got any kinda life yourself, so you get your kicks by screwing over _other_ people's lives, 'cos that's all you're fit for. And don't bother trying to point out you're some kind of _neverheardofhim_ God! _Hell_! Even those in Valhalla look down on you; put up with you rather than actually _want_ you around! Did you get your invite to the Winter Solstice Celebrations in the Great Hall? Got any mistletoe wood on you this year? **_Well_**?"

**-o-o-o-o-**

_A.N. For anyone needing a memory jog, the Trickster is the Norse God Loki, God of chaos and fire.  
__Also, the timeline for this is set shortly pre the death of Bobby, although Dean has already completed a hunt with Garth.  
__SB x_


	4. Chapter 4

**Chap 4**

**-o-o-o-**

Both the Trickster and Dean, who had been standing at his brother's side during Sam's furious tirade, gazed at Sam in shock. Dean recovered first, turning to look at the trickster, Dean gifted him a slow, humorless smile.

"Meet my little brother Sam. The totally pissed off version."

The Trickster seemed to hesitate for the briefest of moments, but then the glint of mischief returned to his eyes and his lips stretched into a broad smirk.

"Temperamental, much!"

Dean moved too fast for Sam to react, and he was instantly toe to toe with the Trickster, his hands grabbing the lapels of the shorter man's jacket and pulling upwards, forcing The Trickster up onto his toes. Sam moved forward, immediately very afraid for his headstrong brother, the memory a lifetime of Tuesdays still haunting him.

"Dean no!"

"_You little piece of_ ..."

Dean's hands suddenly let go their grip on the Trickster's jacket and, instead, were clutching at his own throat whilst he desperately fought against his inability to breath. He staggered backwards and into Sam's arms, his lips rapidly turning blue.

"_Stop it_! Please. Let him go!"

The Trickster's smirk was gone, his faced betrayed no emotion as his cold eyes remained fixed on the struggling Hunter. Dean's efforts grew visibly weaker and his legs buckled, leaving Sam taking most of his dying brother's weight.

"What's in it for me if I do?"

"We'll do your damn pantomime. I promise! Ok? Just, stop this."

The Trickster shrugged, and the emotionless edge instantly vanished from his expression.

"Ok."

He stepped back from the brothers, watching Dean finally begin to draw ragged gasps of much needed air into his tortured lungs as Sam guided him to the floor where he knelt alongside his brother, his arms still wrapped around him.

"Deep breaths, deep steady breaths...That's good. C'mon, you're ok, you're ok."

Dean was at last able to speak as his breathing began to return to normal.

"_Sonovabitch_!"

Sam couldn't help his grin at his brother's choice of first words.

"So...Is everybody happy again now? Can we _please_ get on with the show?"

Dean allowed Sam to help him back up onto his feet, all the while glaring at the Trickster.

"We do this. Then you put things back to normal. Right?"

"Right."

"And you crawl back under the _rock _you came from, and you _stay away_ from my brother and me."

"Oh. Now that's harsh! We've had fun together before, haven't we Deanie? I was just trying to make y'all feel comfortable, you know? Surround you with a few familiar faces, help you relax, enjoy the experience, get into the swing of things? Honestly...I just wanted you to have some fun, get you away from the daily grind. I've got this great cast all lined up. Dean, my man. You ain't seen Cinders yet! I _guarantee _you're just gonna_ love_ her! Come on guys, enjoy the moment. _Say_! I know what the problem is! It's your dad, isn't it? You got upset 'cos I made John one of the Ugly Sisters? I can change that if you like? Just say the word. Whatever makes you happy. I'll even throw in the knickerbockers for free..._See_?"

Looking down at themselves, both brothers found their legs encased in wide, black velvet trousers with elasticated bottoms that ended where the tops of their boots began. Dean glanced at Sam.

"There were supposed to be _trousers_ with this get up? Sammy! We've been standing around with our butts hangin' out and nobody, not _one_ person, said anythin'! _Seriously_?"

Sam nodded.

"Sure looks that way."

"_Jeeze_!"

"So. Are we good to go now boys? _Great_!"

Before either of them could respond, the Trickster had already snapped his fingers ... ... ...

"_There's somebody at the door! There's somebody at the door!_"

"Well? What're you waiting for? Go on!"

Sam looked at Dean.

"Ready?"

"Ready. Let's do this."

The two brothers strode confidently on stage side by side, and the audience erupted. Once again a loud voice yelled over the whistles and cheers, _Nice legs, shame about the faces_. Dean swaggered to front of the stage, focusing his gaze in the direction the voice had come from.

"Hey, _dude_! Don't you wish your _dick_ was as big as your _mouth_?"

The audience loved it, bursting into screams of laughter and applause, forcing the Wicked Stepmother to wait before saying his lines and welcoming Prince Charming and Prince Even More Charming to their humble abode.

"May I introduce my two beautiful, although I am at a loss as to who, daughters. Roberta and Joanna. Status, as yet unwed and ripe for the plucking."

Sam turned to the audience and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Really?"

"Your Highness! I think you must have misheard. I said _plucking_!"

Roberta playfully whacked Sam across the shoulder with her purse.

"_Naughty_ Prince Even More. I'm a... I'm a...Ooo, what's that word?"

Sam quickly supplied an answer.

"Man?"

Joanna, by now arm in arm with Dean's character burst into a shrill, ear splitting screech of laughter which ended with an extended fit of nasal snorting and honking.

"_No! Silly _Princey Wincey_..._ She meant _virgin!_"

Dean stepped in, quickly getting the hang of how things worked.

"I wouldn't doubt that she is, not for one second!"

The audience lapped it all up. The characters soon established that there was to be a grand ball at the palace and the two handsome princes would be choosing their wives from amongst the eligible women who attended. Sam somehow produced half a dozen large pieces of embossed card from down inside his pantaloons.

"How many invitations do you need Madam?"

The stepmother stepped forward, making a big show of snatching three cards, one at a time, from his hand.

"This will do nicely and, I can assure you both, there will be no others girls _anything_ like my two darling, if a little hairsuit, daughters at the ball."

Knowing what was expected, the audience began shouting out again.

_Cinders and Ella!...Cinders and Ella!...Cinders and Ella!_

The theatre lights highlighting the characters currently on stage dimmed, leaving them standing still in near darkness and the audiance hushed, waiting expectantly. A single spotlight came on, creating a pool of pure white light by the curtained stage entrance.

The silence in the auditorium was absolute as two slender, raggedly dressed and barefooted females walked slowly and gracefully into the spotlight. Both held a long handled twig broom, like the classic witch's broomstick, in their hands, and they swept them from side to side across the floor, keeping perfect time with each other. Both held their heads down, blonde hair covering their faces, acting as though they were completely unaware of the other occupants of the stage as they began to sing.

The spotlight moved with the pair, their voices combined in a sweet and sorrowful sounding duet. The audience listened in enraptured silence, feeling the sadness within the lyrics of dreams that don't come true. Reaching the end of the song, their voices soared in total unison, pleading for a wish to come true, and they finally raised their heads, eyes closed as they held the final note.

There was a fraction of a second's pause, during which the pair stayed perfectly still, maintaining their pose under the illuminating spotlight, and then the audience roared. At first a few dozen or so of the audience leapt to their feet, then the wave of movement spread and the rest quickly followed; clapping, stamping, cheering and whistling their appreciation whilst the rest of the stage lights slowly came up again.

Caught in the stage lights, Sam was motionless, helpless to stop the tears from tumbling down his face. Next to him, Dean fought to maintain some control over his own emotions. His green eyes glistened with unshed tears, drinking in the sight of his beautiful Jo.

Ignoring the sound in his head reminding him _It's not real. She's not real_, Sam softly whispered one word.

"Jess..."

**-o-o-o-o-**

End of Act 1


	5. Chapter 5

**Chap 5**

Intermission

-o-o-o-

The applause was deafening as the huge, heavy brocade curtains swished closed across the stage, signalling a brief intermission. There began a rumbling kind of noise from the other side of the curtains as the audience all made a dash to replenish their theatre snacks or grab a drink from the bar. On the stage side of the curtain, all the actors, except for Sam and Dean, immediately threw off their characters, relaxing their postures and heading off the stage, chatting amongst one another. The Wicked Stepmother/Castiel stopped at the side of the brothers. Reaching down, he lifted his skirt and petticoat with one hand and yanked his high heeled shoes off with the other. He winked at the Hunters.

"Tell yer what...S'good to get outta them buggers. They pinch mi toes sumfin' chronic! Hav'ta say, you two were both _great_ tonight lads! Gonna be a good one I reckon. You comin' to grab a quick pint before curtain up? Pro'bly see yer down there."

He didn't seem to notice the brothers' lack of response or acknowledgement, and the actor limped cheerfully off in the direction of the back stage bar. Both Sam and Dean's attention never wavered off the two actresses playing Cinders and Ella as Zachariah hurried towards the two young women, his face beaming as he hugged Cinders/Jo and Ella/Jessica in turn.

"Stunning work as always ladies! I _knew_ I could count on you both to bring this audience to it's feet, and your song was pitch perfect. Beautiful! Absolutely beautiful!"

Cinders grinned.

"Thanks Zak. You're an angel."

He casually draped his arms around each woman's shoulders.

"Well then...What do you think about our lead guys tonight?"

The brothers' hearts stalled as Jo and Jess turned to look over their shoulders and directly at them. The women both gave Sam and Dean an easy smile before turning away again. It was Jess who spoke and Sam closed his eyes as he tuned in to the voice which, until now, he only ever heard within his dreams.

"They're adorable! Very easy on the eye, _especially_ mine."

Jo gave Jess a mischievous wink.

"I'm with you there girlfriend. Mine's soooo damn _hot_! Sure lookin' forward to the kissing part at the end!"

An extremely irritated Rufus stomped onto the stage and towards Zackariah.

"_Boss!_ You _gotta_ come sort Buttons out. He's moanin' 'bout his costume again. I keep tellin' him, Buttons _always_ dresses like a Bellboy. Damned if _I_ know why. Our Buttons? He wants a frilly frockcoat, like_ those_ guys."

Zachariah lightly patted Jo and Jess on their backsides.

"Ah well. A Director's work is never done. Go on girls, you're due on again in ten ... Ok you, take me to Mr High and Mighty and lets get that _paininthebutt_ dressed."

Finally the stage was emptied of panto characters, leaving Sam and Dean standing alone. It was Dean who broke the silence between them.

"Sammy? You _do_ know they're not real. _Right_? It's just that asshat Trickster, messin' with our heads."

Keeping his gaze on the spot where Jess had been standing just seconds ago, Sam nodded.

"Yeah, I got that Dean...Did _you_?"

Dean wander across to a wooden table and four wooden chairs that formed part of the set and sat himself down with a sigh, putting his head in his hands.

"Yeah, I'm good."

There was a weary undertone to Dean's voice, Sam turned to look at his older brother, concern clouding his expression.

"Are you _sure_ about that Dean? 'Cos you know, honestly? I'm struggling here."

Dean patted the seat of the rickety looking chair next to him and said nothing until Sam sat himself down. Sam could see Dean trying to gather his thoughts. He waited patiently. At last Dean met his brother's gaze.

"Ok. Way I see it? We got two ways to go on this. Part of me, a _huge_ part, wants to pummel that twisted little psycho all the way to Hell for making them look and sound like Jo an' Jess."

"And the other part?"

"Well...Here's the thing...The _other_ part of me wants the chance to hold that girl, breathe her in, make believe _just for a moment,_ that it really _is_ my Jo, and get to feel her in my arms again ... Sounds crazy, huh?"

Sam swallowed hard and laid a hand on the back of Dean's neck, his thumb automatically stroking softly up and down.

"Yeah...It's crazy. But I get it. I want the same chance. It's been so long since..."

"_Hey_! _You two_! Should'a guessed. Will ya stop_ fawning_ over each other and clear off the damn stage? Curtains due up in three an' you pair o' love birds ain't in this next part."

Sam and Dean both turned to glare at Rufus, and both answered him.

"We're _brothers_!"

Rufus raised both hands, palms out.

"My mistake. Whatever. Just get lost, will ya?"

**-o-o-o-o-**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chap 6**

Act II

**-o-o-o-o-**

Sam dropped his hand from Dean's neck and stood upright.

"Seems we're not needed. You wanna hit the back stage bar? Or would you rather hang around and watch?"

Dean stretched as he stood up and managed a grin.

"Why not do both? I'm pretty sure we can soon scare the Garth-a-like into bringing us a couple of drinks while we hang around. I'm kinda curious about this Buttons guy and, well, there's Cinders and Ella. They're not our girls...But I think maybe I'd like to take that moment I mentioned...How about you?"

Sam bowed his head whilst he considered his brother's comment. When he looked back up, his tears were threatening once again, but he gave a small smile non the less.

"Yeah...Me too."

-o-

As the pair strolled back toward the wings, Cinders and Ella walked out onto the stage to take up their positions ready for the curtains to re-open. They glanced at each other and giggled when they noticed they were going to be walking past their two leading men. Taking a steadying breath, Dean drew to a halt in front of Cinders, and held out his hand.

"Hi. I'm Dean. I think I'm supposed to be your Prince Charming?"

The smile he got in return was pure Jo, and this time his breath hitched in his throat. Cinders stepped closer, pushing Dean's hand away, instead, putting her arms around his waist in a friendly hug, still smiling as she gazed up at him, her eyes twinkling in amusement.

"Stop being so formal Dean. After all, we have to smooch together later you know, in front of the whole...Mixed species audience. Maybe we should get together in the next break? Go over our lines...Or something?"

If Sam hadn't been staring into Ella's eyes whilst he nervously introduced himself to her, he would have seen something so rare it almost merited it's own Discovery Channel documentary. Sam would have witnessed Dean Winchester blush. Jo's smile grew gentle.

"Oh, hey! I'm just teasing, honestly! Go on, both of you. We'll see you later, at the ball."

-o-

Hurrying off stage, Sam and Dean heard the sound of voices raised in heated debate.

"I don't _know_ why! That's just how it _is_ and I'm not about to change anything. _Ok_?"

"Correct me if I'm wrong but, you _are_ both director and _creative_ director. Right? So. Stick your neck out, do something **_creative_**! All I'm looking for here is a change to this **_bloody outfit_****!**"

"_Enough_! I'm not discussing this anymore. Get your hat on and _don't miss your cue_!"

At that moment, Zachariah spotted Dean and Sam, both were staring in open amazement at Buttons.

"Ah. Gentlemen! _Excellent_ performance earlier, you really pulled it together. Surprised us all! This character in yellow, to match his sunny disposition ha ha, is Buttons. Buttons?...Meet our new Princes."

"Hello boys."

-o-

At first it was just a smirk, that soon became a snigger, which very quickly morphed into giggles, rapidly passed through that kind of unmanly stage and onward, becoming heartfelt laughter, topped off with tears and a desperate search for somewhere to sit down. Zachariah immediately looked concerned and frowned up at Sam.

"Erm...Is he ok? Is there something we should do?"

His own eyes shimmering with bubbling laughter and a broad, genuine, smile lighting up his face, Sam shook his head.

"No...No, really...It...It's a pleasure to meet you Buttons. Seriously...A _huge _pleasure! My brother he er, he's a big fan and, the costume? Perfect...Just..._Perfect_..."

Sam gave up; and within seconds he was leaning against his still hysterical brother for support. Crowley slammed his bright yellow little Bellboy's hat onto his head and glared furiously at Zachariah.

"Change my costume by tomorrow night _mate_...Or get yourself a new bloody **_Buttons_****!"**

He stomped off to the edge of the wings as the house lights dimmed and the muffled sounds of the audience quickly hushed in anticipation of the coming act. Gasping for breath, Sam and Dean fought to rein in their laugher and turned to look at the stage, thoughts of beer forgotten, as the theatre curtains smoothly opened once more.

-o-

Cinders and Ella were both on their knees at different points of the stage. There was a large wooden bucket sat on the floor between them. Both women had their hands balanced on the top of over sized scrubbing brushes, which they moved over the floor as if washing it. Ella sat herself back on her heels, pushing a stray hair off her face and breathing a large sigh.

"If only papa was still alive Cinders. He would have made certain we had an invite to attend the Royal Ball this evening. It's just not fair!"

Cinders stopped her scrubbing and sat up as well, dropping her brush into the wooden pail before giving Ella a sad smile.

"I know he would Ella ... Step mama has taken our step sisters out shopping for a new ball gown each from the Big Girl's Outfitters."

"Do you think there is any chance one of them might get chosen tonight by one of the Princes?"

Cinders looked thoughtful.

"I suppose it _could_ happen...Are either of the Princes blind?"

Both Cinders and Ella giggled as they returned to scrubbing the floor, and Buttons/Crowley took up his cue. He literally bounded onto the stage, a "cheeky chappy" grin plastered across his face, he waved chirpily to the cheering audience. Stood in the wings, Dean clamped a hand over his mouth, physically restraining his urge to fall into fits of laughter again. Even though he knew the Crowley he was watching wasn't the real thing, this was still an image he intended to treasure. The stage lights changed, now focusing on Buttons and fading out on Cinders and Ella. From where he was standing, Sam was able to see both girls taking the opportunity to simply sit back and relax within the darkened area.

-o-

"_Hello everybody_! Hello kids...Are you having _fun_?"

Just as the adults had, the younger audience members clearly knew what was expected of them; screaming, squealing and, in some cases, growling out their affirmation. Buttons stood front and centre on the stage and cupped a hand behind one ear, leaning his whole body slightly to one side.

"_That_ wasn't very loud! Lets have _another_ go shall we? Hey! _Kids_! Are you having _fun_?"

The volume increased considerably as the youngsters again screamed **_Yeeeeessss!_** back at Buttons. Buttons shook his head and lowered his hand from his ear.

"I must have got _earwigs_ in both my ears, I hardly heard anybody shouting! This time, I want _everyone_ joining in. I'm going to count to three, and then I want _everybody_ to scream _really_ loudly if you're having a good time. Loud enough to blow my hat off if you can! **_Here we go_**_!_ One, two, three. **_Are...You...Having_**...**FUN**?"

Buttons flattened his hat against his head with both hands as though he was having to hold it in place, whilst he staggered and pretended to be knocked backwards under the onslaught of noise raised by the audience's efforts.

"_Marvellous_! That was _great_! Now, let's see..._Does anybody here like candy_?"

With yet more screams and cries of **_Me, me, me_** assailing him, Buttons opened a deep cloth bag that hung over one shoulder and across his chest, beginning to pull out handful after handful of small bags of candy, throwing them as far as he could throughout the audience. Sam's eyes grew wide at the sight of the no holds barred free-for-all as the kids scrambled and jumped up onto their seats to beat the adults to the little parcels whizzing around the auditorium. He winced when he spotted Lillith, wild eyed with greed, viciously drop kicking a ghoul out of her way.

-o-

Finally the candy fight ended, and Buttons stood with his shoulders slumped, his expression now one of pure sadness and he produced a deeply dramatic sigh.

"I'm so glad you're happy; but _I feel_ really scared...I saw that Step Mama heading this way. She doesn't like me visiting when she's out. Actually, scratch that. She just doesn't like me visiting _at all_! But I've brought a _very special_ present for _Cinders and Ella._ Listen, I don't want Step Mama to catch me here. If you see her...Will you tell me?"

The sudden build up of excitement throughout the audience was palpable as humans, demons, angels, witches and other highly suspect creatures eagerly agreed to buttons' request. There was just one, young voice of descent, someone who _clearly_ had her mouth over stuffed with candy.

"_I wanna shee 'er pulfferrive you!"_

With practised ease, Crowley/Buttons' suddenly cold stare swiftly homed in on the guilty party.

"And _I_ would _very_ much like to see you**_ choke_** on that gob full of _candy_, _you __**ill**_ **_mannered little_** **_bitch_**!...Unfortunately, we don't always get what we want, _do we_?"

Delighted at this turn of events, a good sized proportion of the audience around the girl took up the chant _**Bitch, bitch, bitch**._ Lillith actively forced herself to partially swallow the half sucked clumps of candy before sticking a bright green coated tongue out at Buttons. Suddenly her expression changed to one of panic. Her eyes began grow wide and bulge, she stretched her mouth open wide in an attempt to draw air past the still semi-solid, congealed candy lump which was now wedged firmly in the back of her throat. Making odd squeaking noises she madly pointed to her own neck, frantically signalling her lack of ability to draw air. pleading with her ever more bulging eyes for her fellow audience members to help her.

"_Look momma_! That weird girl can make her face go all red!"

"It's because she's choking dear. Keep watching, you'll see her change to blue very soon."

Sam turned uncertainly to Dean.

"Do you think we should ...?"

Dean tipped his head slightly on one side, watching Lillith's death throws whilst he considered the issue. Finally he shrugged.

"Nahh."

Sam nodded and relaxed again.

"Ok.

-o-

The audience gave a polite smattering of applause when Lillith finally slipped off her seat and onto the floor where she stayed, exceptionally quietly, throughout the rest of the evening's performance. Watching her initial gradual slide from view, Buttons grinned.

"_Well_! Seems that wishes _can_ come true after all! And speaking of, I'd better get these invitations to Cinders and Ella before their Step Mama finds me here. You won't forget to tell me if you see her, will you?"

Dean gave Sam a nudge with his elbow.

"I'm about ready to hit the bar an' grab a beer now. You up for it?"

**-o-o-o-o-**


	7. Chapter 7

Qwerty - Don't you dare, _please_! - Telecat - Thank you, oh giggly one! - Anyone else_ - __**Schmoop warning**__!_

**Chap 7**

Away from the stage

**-o-o-o-o-**

Making their way to the actor's bar, the Hunters walked along in silence, both lost in their own thoughts, trying to process the people and the events which had, thus far, unfurled around them; attempting to regain some kind of stability after the emotional wringer the Trickster's latest interference in their lives had so far squeezed and strung them through. Taking their direction from the sounds of chat and laughter, it was Sam who broke the thought fuelled silence, his hand reaching for his brother, signalling Dean to come to a halt. Seeing the expression of sadness on his younger brother's face, the serious set to his brow, Dean waited. Watching in silence whilst the younger man considered his words. Not wanting to distract from whatever it was that Sam clearly wanted to say, aware from his _own_ feelings when initially confronted with the perfect visual copy of his Jo, just how much it must have hurt Sam to see Jessica's face again. Dean was caught off guard, then, with his brother's opening line.

"It was worse you know...Last time."

"Last time? _Which_ last time?"

"The Tuesdays ... See. These people? These..._Characters_ all around us? They're not real, and not really who they seem to be. They're all just part of _him_, The Trickster, you know? But ... Last time ... You dying...So many ti ... _That_ was real Dean, for me. _That_ was worse. It was so much harder than doing this."

"Harder than suddenly finding yourself looking into Jessica's eyes, having to tell yourself it's not her, however much you want it to be? It was harder than doing _that_?"

Sam bowed his head, hiding under his hair briefly, like he used to do at high school, whenever Dean teased him about whichever group of girls in Sam's year, whatever school it happened to be, who all watched him hopefully whenever Sam happened to walk down the corridor towards them; and then the disappointment which followed on the girls' faces when, most often, Sam would simply walk by. Sam raised his head again, his eyes scanning Dean's face.

"Yeah. It was. It _was_ harder. That woman on stage? I _know_ she isn't for real but, I still got the chance to look into Jess's eyes. The other time, for Tuesday after endless damn Tuesday, no matter what I did, I still kept having to watch _your_ eyes close ... I know which one I'd rather do."

Dean's shock as he stared at Sam was openly written on his face and his mind was in turmoil. Sammy, the person that mattered to him more than anyone else, the person he had..._would again..._gone to Hell for. His baby brother seemed to be saying that Dean mattered too. That he was as important to Sam, as Sam was to him; and Dean found that he couldn't think of a damn thing to say in return that he trusted would come out the right way. Sam gave his big brother a small smile.

"So ...? You're not going to tell me I'm a girl or call me Samantha?"

In the end, Dean simply turned to glance toward the door leading into the small bar area.

"I ... Think I really need that drink."

-o-

Letting Dean take the lead, Sam gazed at the back of his _no chick flick moments_ brother's head. The fact that Dean hadn't called him a stupid name, or made out that he was about to puke, or even just dismissed Sam's words by walking immediately away told Sam all that he needed to know. Dean had heard, he had absorbed and, for now, he had accepted. Crossing to the bar, both brothers instinctively took note of how many other people were around, what they were doing, who stood where, who might possibly be a threat. Being aware of their surroundings was simply second nature, a part of who they were, something they couldn't just switch off. The sounds of the actors currently on stage were being piped through to the bar, handy for letting those who were sat in there know if they needed to return to the wings ready to go on, and what the tone of the audience was. The Hunter's stood themselves by the bar counter in time to hear the sound of the audience screaming and shouting _She's behind_ _you_! Followed a few seconds later by Crowley's voice.

"Sorry? What did you say?

**_She's behind you!_**

"Come again?"

**_She's behind you!_**

"Oh dear!...Hang on, I'll have a look ... Nope. There's nobody there! You obviously made a mistake, but I still need you to keep a look out for that nasty step- mama and tell me if you _do_ see her. Will you do that for me?"

**_SHE'S BEHIND YOU!_**

-o-

Sam grinned.

"I'm guessing _Mama Cass_ is stalking Buttons."

The barman's voice chipped in.

"Get a load of that audience guys, they're just _drinking_ it up! Wow! Clever link! Now...What can I get for you two _Charmers_? Boom, boom!"

The Trickster bestowed his trademark grin on the brothers and looked expectantly from one to the other.

"So, tell me. Are you havin' fun yet?"

-o-

Twin icy glares met The Trickster's grin. Dean placed both forearms on the bar, lowering himself down until he was on eye level with the God.

"_You_...Are one slimy little ba..."

"Ah, ah, ahh! Children in the audience Deanie!"

"...Bad excuse for a God if this _fudge_ is the only way you can get your pebbles off."

"I think the phrase is get your _rocks _off."

"Not in _your _case, _Tiny_ Tim. My brother and me'll have whisky, doubles, on the house. Get serving!"

Sam didn't interfere with the exchange, but his whole posture subtly altered as he stood himself ready to do whatever it took to back Dean up if necessary. The Trickster instantly switched his gaze onto Sam and took a step back from the bar. He held up his hands.

"It's ok...You can stand down big guy. See? I'm just going to get your drinks."

An empty whisky tumbler metamorphosised in each of the Trickster's hands.

"I know you're maybe both a bit stressed and I get it, really, I do! _You're_ supposed to be the leading men, but Buttons is the audience favourite. _Obviously_ that's gotta be upsetting!"

The Trickster quickly walked away to fill the tumblers, leaving Dean to bow his head and purposely hit his forehead against the bar counter with a quiet thud.

"Freakin' unbelievable! ... When this' over, we do nothin' else, no hunts, till we figure out a way to gank this ba...dger. Deal?"

Sam gave a nod.

"Deal."

-o-

Over the intercom between the bar and the stage, came the voices of Cinders and Ella. Dean and Sam sipped at their drinks in silence, focusing everything on listening to the voices they had never thought to hear again when the women they loved had each lost their lives.

"Look at them Ella! Our very own invitations to the Royal ball. See how beautiful they are? How the gold lettering shimmers in the candlelight? Can you imagine it? You and me, me and you, dancing the whole night long with our Princes?"

"Cinders? You _do_ know that we can't go, even though we have these? I mean...Look at us! At our clothes. At our dirty faces and our bare feet. They would _never_ let us into the palace, invitations or not."

"I know that Ella. But it doesn't mean we can't pretend ... Pardon me_,_ **_but_**. As you are one of the two _hottest_ babes at this rave, and I am the owner of one of the two best butts in the Kingdome...Would you do me the honour of dancing with me, My Lady?"

"Why...Your Highness! I would_ love_ to dance with you, and after, keep on dancing with you, **_but_**. As to the butt? I reserve the right to pass my _own_ judgement on it's superiority, once I have conducted the appropriate research, if you don't mind?"

Dean recognised Cinders/Jo's throaty laugh, and the sound automatically made him smile.

The sound of a fast moving polka filled the bar and, in his mind's eye, Sam pictured himself, Jessica held safely in his arms whilst he guided her onto the dance floor. He visualised their bodies, moving in perfect synchronisation, as they swirled around the dance floor in time to the music; Jess, graceful and light on her feet, eyes shining in exhilaration as he spun her around and they wove their intricate pattern, lost to everyone, except each other.

Watching, Dean's lips twitched into a small smile when he noticed his brother's far away expression; and he wondered about the image Sammy was seeing, over on some distant horizon. Dean felt an unexpected surge of sadness for everything Sam had given up and lost; lost since the night that he, Dean, after four long years and without considering the possibility that his brother might have found love, had driven to Stanford to ask Sam to help find their, once again, absent father. And, as he had wondered to himself on so many occasions since, what _might_ have been if he had never made that drive? Would Jessica still be alive? Still in love with his brother? Instead of having become yet another innocent death added on to the ever increasing number that Dean believed, with his whole being, were on him; and him alone...

**-o-o-o-o-**

_I swear this fic. has taken on a life of it's own and I'm not in charge any more! So, that being the case, I take no responsibility for any prior angst, trauma, daftness, grossness, character fashion faux pas or character actions/interactions :D Whatever happens from now on isn't my fault either 'cos, seriously? I've been left jogging along after this thing, following it's trail :D _

_It would be great to know I'm not jogging alone? (S'right, __**totally**__ obvious hint)_**;** p

_Chick xxx_


	8. Chapter 8

**Chap 8**

The Backstage Bar

-o-o-o-o-

Unnoticed by either Sam or Dean, lost as they were in their own thoughts, Buttons stalked into the bar and slumped himself down at an empty table. A tall, skinny waitress appeared with a pint and a shot glass full of something purple. Buttons raised his head enough to stare appreciatively at the brunette's rear whilst she wandered away again, then he sneered when he saw that the girl's_ own_ eyes as she returned to her post lingered over the two new princes. Buttons stared down into his beer despondently.

"Bloody charmin'."

The sound of the polka music ended to whoops and hollers from the audience, followed by the sound of two oddly gruff yet high pitched voices shouting in unison.

"Cin-_ders_! El-_laaaa_! Get up here and make us **gor-****_geousssssss_**!"

Ella's voice was heard next.

"Great! How's that thing go? The _impossible_ we can do..."

Cinders answered.

"But we don't do miracles!"

Further enthusiastic cheers and applause broke out, swiftly followed by the noise of stampeding feet, hooves and claws as the audience raced to replenish their drinks and snacks, signalling the start of the second intermission. At that same moment, in the back stage bar, an angry whirlwind ran in and came to an abrupt standstill, slamming her hands on her hips as she glared around at the bar's occupants accusingly.

"Right! Listen up!...Which one of you _clowns_ has hidden my wings again?"

-o-

Dragged from their reverie, the Hunters turned at the sound of the irate newcomer's voice. Sam's eyebrows climbed as he stared in surprised delight. Dean had instinctively taken two steps towards the woman before he could stop himself. Unfortunately, his movement immediately drew her attention to him. "Charlie" stuck an arm out and pointed at Dean accusingly.

"Was it you? _Pretty boy_!...Well?"

Dean retreated backwards, bumping his back against the bar counter and shook his head.

"No ma'am. Not guilty."

His denial may have been more effective had he not had a dumb grin on his face. The red head, looking a picture swathed in a full length, glittering and wonderfully frothy ballerina dress of pure white, fixed Dean with an angry stare and stalked towards him, a menacing look on her face.

"You'd _better_ not be lying to me. 'Cos I've got a wand, and I know how to _use_ it!"

Sam's snort of laughter instantly had her switching her glare up to him.

"What's so funny kid? I can't go on stage without my wings. It'd be like _you_ going out there without your fancy pants on; _Dumbo_!"

Dean chuckled.

"Already done that."

"_You_ ...? Oh ... ... _Really_?"

Charlie shook her head slightly, as though to dislodge a disturbing image from inside her mind.

"Did it get you any extra applause?"

-o-

More people wandered into the bar, including Rufus who glanced around. Spotting Charlie he hurried over, holding something pale blue and translucent. Charlie grinned.

"My wings! Who'd taken them?"

Rufus handed the wings to their rightful owner.

"Nobody. You'd left 'em hung over the top of the cubicle door in the ladies room again."

Charlie scrunched her eyebrows up into a small frown, then brightened and grinned again.

"Oh yeah. I did, didn't I? Oops!"

"Next time either leave 'em in your dressin' room, or leave 'em on while you..._You know_."

"I _can't_ leave them on to _you know_. They..._Dangle_!"

Looking shocked, Rufus raised his hands in surrender and backed off from the fairy..

"_Wow_! TMI! Right there! I so did _not_ wanna know that!"

Rufus shoved the wings into the Fairy Godmother's hands as if the wings had suddenly transformed into hot metal and he turned to leave. Fairy Charlie shrugged, then grinned up at the brothers.

"Right. Now all I've got to find is that bloody tiara! See you at the ball boys...Hah! _Ball boys_! Keep your pants on now, you hear me?"

The red head gave the brothers a small wave before jogging after the departing figure of Rufus, setting out on her new quest to track down her disappearing head gear, leaving both Sam and Dean still beaming in amusement as her real life counterpart so often did. Dean chuckled.

"Seems to me that Charlie is Charlie, _wherever_ you bump into her."

A warm voice piped up before Sam had chance to reply.

"You two look like you're having fun. Can we get you both another drink?"

-o-

Cinders and Ella had parked themselves at the bar next to the brothers, whilst the two were busily denying any guilt in relation to missing fairy wings. Once again, the sight of the two women, especially given being so near to them, made the Hunter's stomachs lurch and Sam's eyes hungrily drunk in the sight of Jessica's carbon copy. Jess/Ella smiled at Sam, her expression curious and thoughtful.

"Have you and I met somewhere before? Only, I've noticed you keep watching me.? ... Not that I mind at all, I was just kinda wondering?"

Sam swallowed, promptly erupting into a coughing frenzy which, in turn, made his eyes water. _Great Winchester! Cool, calm and collected you ain't_.!

"Erm, no. Excuse me ... It's just, well. You remind me of someone. Someone I cared about, verymuch."

Ella cocked her head to one side whilst she considered Sam.

"You were in love."

It wasn't a question, and Sam found himself blinking hard to dispel the tears before they began, his voice turning almost to a whisper.

"We were."

Picking up on the fact that the ground underfoot was starting to get a little rocky, Cinders stepped in to lighten the moment, grinning cheekily at Dean.

"What about _you_ Charming? Anyone ever captured your attention and been able to keep it there?"

Dean turned his full gaze onto Cinders, a not-quite-but-nearly-there smile on his lips. Cinders found herself a little out of her depth by how intently he fixed on her and, for the first time, she noted how green his eyes were.

"She could have...If we'd had the chance."

Standing nonchalantly behind the bar, unacknowledged, polishing the same wine glass over and over, the Trickster was listening. One eyebrow flicked up slightly at Dean's words and, for a moment, he contemplated his version of Jo with interest before moving closer to the small group, wanting to divert them away from their current melancholy topic.

"Drinks anyone? Curtain's up in five. Anyone needing to be on stage beforehand, I'd recommend ordering a short."

Cinders picked up the cue, pulling her focus from Dean quickly.

"Whoops! That's us girlfriend. Better make ours to go, and a re-fill for our two perfect princes here. By the way...You _can_ both dance, like, old fashioned back in the day dance, can't you?"

Sam smiled broadly, immediately recalling his earlier daydream. Dean, however, suddenly looked horrified. Ella laughed out loud.

"I'd say, my dear, that what we have before us, is a _yes..._And an **_uh oh_**_! _

Cinders rolled her eyes.

"Seriously? Ok. Sam? I need a basic upbeat waltz out of this one. My toes are in your hands...Or somethin' like that, anyway."

**-o-o-o-o-**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chap 9**

The Fairy Godmother on stage

**-o-o-o-o-**

Dean watched the two women exit the bar, and gave a slow, sorrowful shake of his head.

"I'm done for."

Sam smirked.

"Maybe not. Waltzing's easy and for this we can keep it simple, you only need to learn three steps, then you just repeat them over and over. Preferably in time to the music. We'll find some space and I'll guide you through it."

"Are you _crazy_? Seriously? You expect me to _dance, _with _you_? Crap! My life is _totally_ over!"

"Your drinks guys...Complements of the girls. Either of you figured out the whole fun idea yet?"

Dean spun around to face the Trickster, his arm shot out across the counter, his hand grabbing hold of the Trickster's shirt collar. Dean yanked the smaller man closer, forcing the Trickster to have to partially lean on top of, and across, the bar. The Trickster ended up with his face only inches from Dean's, and Dean was scowling.

"You didn't say anything about _dancing_ you little snot! I_ swear _I'm gonna kick you _so_ hard up your _fudgin' ass_, you're gonna find yourself wearin' your _nuts_ for _ear rings_! Now, _that'll_ be me havin' some _real_ _fun_!"

Moving quickly, Sam prised his brother's fingers off the Trickster's collar.

"Dean! Calm down dude. I've told you; you're gonna be fine! Everything's gonna be fine!""

The Trickster nodded enthusiastically.

"That's right Dean! Listen to your over grown, giant sized ... Oh, _hey_! _Sammy_ boy! How about Jack and the Beanstalk next year? You'd be _perfect_ as the giant!"

"Don't push it, asshat!"

"You're right Sam. No need to decide straight away. Think it over and get back to me. But for now, _Deanie_? Don't you _wanna_ get handsy with Cinders and take her out for a spin?"

With Sam's hands now firmly holding him by the shoulders to prevent him trying to get over the bar to the Trickster, Dean had to be content with fixing the God with his best glare.

"Listen up you pathetic weasel...I don't care if this Jo _is_ a creation of your twisted, screwed up little mind, you watch your dirty little mouth! You don't get to talk like that about her,_ clear?"_

The Trickster looked from one brother to the other. _What is it with these Winchesters? Why do they turn everything into such a big deal?_

"Ok, _fine_. Respect for Cinders, I get it. Alright? You two are _incredibly_ hard work sometimes, you know that?"

"So _here's_ an idea...Why don't you leave us the Hell alone?"

"Oh boys, boys. I couldn't do that! Despite the hard work that you can take, you're just too much fun to play with!"

Dean instantly began to struggle against his brother's grip. Sam, however, refused to let go. Instead he adeptly turned Dean away from the bar and, guiding Dean's direction of movement from behind, forced Dean out of the area and back towards the side wing of the theatre stage.

-o-

"Gerroff me Sam! Why'd you stop me punchin' the light's outta the irritating little shit?"

"Because we're both _stuck_ here till we've played his dumb game. And that stinks, I know. But lets just get it done, over with. Then we can be rid of him. Ok?"

Dean nodded sulkily.

"Ok."

Nearing the wings, the brothers could hear the audience stamping and whistling. Curious, they moved closer. Dean nudged the Garth-alike.

"What's happening?"

Garth-alike glanced up.

"Oh, it's you...Fairy Godmother's arrived. She's _always_ a crowd pleaser."

-o-

Cinders and Ella were standing together in the middle of the stage, their arms around one another, each with their head on the other one's shoulder as they sobbed heartbrokenly at having been left behind by their step-mama and step-sisters. Nearby, there was a new sound. It was not unlike a firework rocket whooshing up into the sky. Along with the noise came the sudden appearance of a huge, cotton candy pink plume of thick, billowing, glitter filled smoke. From out of the centre of the swirling pink cloud stepped Charlie in full Fairy Godmother regalia, wafting her hands back and forth in front of her face, as though trying to clear herself a path through the smoke. She was making dainty little coughing and choking noises as she walked, well clear of the now rapidly dissipating smoke. and the audience were cheering, hooting and stomping their feet in delight at her arrival. Peering around with half shuttered squinted up eyes and still coughing and spluttering, the Fairy Godmother suddenly did an over-acted double take when she spotted the audience. Skipping to a position front and centre of the stage, she delivered a deep curtsy to the baying audience before standing up straight. She gave everyone a cheery wave with her free hand, turning the wave into a signal for the theatre goers into quiet down again.

In her other hand she clutched the handle of a three foot long brilliant blue wand that flashed randomly around it's star shaped head with a multi-coloured rainbow of Technicolor lights.

"Hello you lot out there. Are you having a good time so far?"

A loud chorus of**_ Yessss_** was directed her way by the ever eager audience, and the Fairy Godmother grinned out at them.

"_Awesome_! Now, hang on a mo' while I turn this thing off. All this flishy flashy thing my wand keeps doin' is murder on my hangover ... _Oops_! Silly me. I _meant_ to say, _headache, _obviously_. I_ can _assure_ you, my headache has _nothin' at all_ to do with the _teeny tiny_, _tinsy wincey_ little sniff of the _one_ alcoholic drink that I _accidentally_ drank before coming here...No sir!...Not down to booze at _all_! ... *Hic* ... How the _puppy_ do I turn these fairy lights off? Oh! _I_ know!"

The Fairy began madly shaking her wand as if it she was shaking off a soaking wet umbrella. At the third lot of shaking, the light show finally stopped, and the fairy breathed a long, loud sigh of relief.

"_Phewwwww_! That's better! Now, where was I? Ah yes ... I'm Cinders' and Ella's Fairy Godmother. But you can call me just Fairy if you like. That's what most people do; on account that I can't tell people my proper name. If I _did_, then any old Tom, Dick or Harriet could use my real name to make me do dumb stuff, kinda like if they owned me. So I _never_ tell anyone. Nope. Nobody at _all _knows that my name's_**Matilda. **__... ... __**Poop!**_ I just did it! I just told you all my name, didn't I? _Oh_, _sparklers_! _Oh dear!"_

The fairy's shoulders slumped, her bottom lip poked out and she began a stuttering of short sobbing noises, rubbing at her eyes with her fists. The audience, as one, burst into an _Ahhhhhhhhhhh_! sound of sympathy.

The audience response appeared to be the trigger for the next level of Fairy tears and, eyes screwed tight closed, mouth open wide, the fairy now held both arms out from her sides, threw back her head and began her eardrum popping, mind blowing, shoulder tensing "proper" crying. Comic wails of despair filled the auditorium. At the same time, she was signalling the audience with her hands to give her more sounds of sympathy. The audience contentedly obliged.

Suddenly, and as though a tap had been turned off, she stopped crying. Bending right over from the waist until her upper body was hanging up-side-down, she began fiddling with the layers of of her skirt then reached an arm under her beautiful fairy dress. From somewhere under her dress, she yanked out a handkerchief which turned out to be the size of a small table cloth. Charlie/Fairy proceeded to blow long, violent raspberry noises into the material, as if she was blowing her nose. Finishing finally, she scrunched the oversized hanky up and proceeded to make it disappear back under her skirts again.

That done, she patted at her hair for a brief moment, as if capturing and returning wayward strands back into their rightful place. At last, seemingly satisfied, she finally gave her full attention back to the audience, battering her huge false eyelashes at them all coyly.

"Seems to me that you are all _awfully_ nice people ... And other species ... Maybe if you make a promise that you'll never, _ever_ use my name to make me do something dumb, it'll be ok? See, it really wouldn't matter that you know my name then, would it? Do you think you could all _do_ that for me?"

Fascinated, it took Dean a while to realise that Garth-Alike was nudging him in an attempt to get his attention.

"Dude!"

"Hey! I'm just givin' you and your..._friend..._here a heads up...

"He's my brother!"

...Oh...Really? Only Rufus said..._Never mind_. You'll need to go change soon if you want time to check your lines. Next act after this' the royal ball, man."

Dean groaned.

**-o-o-o-o-**

Reviews and views always welcome and helpful. (Especially as I 'm worried about how the idea of a panto is translating to those of you who have never heard of or seen one).

Don't force me to ask the Fairy Godmother to wave her flishy flashy wand and _make_ you write something! **;P**


	10. Chapter 10

A big heart felt thank you to those of you who have reviewed as Guest.  
I'm really grateful to you for taking the time to comment. (That goes for everyone).

**Chap 10**

Confusion

**-o-o-o-o-**

Sam patted his older brother on the back in sympathy.

"Come on. Lets go see what dumb outfit we get to wear next, and I'll give you a quick guided tour of the waltz."

Dean turned, and Sam was surprised to see his brother sporting a wide grin, his eyes sparkling. He casually slung an arm around Sam's shoulder, giving Sam a quick squeeze before guiding them both away from the wing area, chatting happily and with his arm still draped over Sam's shoulder where Dean seemed perfectly content to let it remain.

"Ain't Charlie fairy the best? She's setting the audience up to get her doin' somethin' dumb. Wonder what it'll be tonight? Natural born comic that one!"

"She is but, we really need to focus on _our_ bit."

"Okay-dokay, _brother_. No problemo! I'm totally ready for it man. I'm gonna dish some moves that'll blow that Cinders chick's socks off when we're rockin' the dance floor. An' when I kiss her? Man, that little honey better be ready for me! I'm telling you dude, there's gonna be fireworks tonight, you betcha!"

Sam extracted himself from under Dean's casual hold, a small frown on his features.

"You, er, suddenly seem enthusiastic; which is good! It is. Still, we'll both be happy to get out of here asap and back to our _real_ lives..._Right, Dean_?"

"What? Oh. _Sure..._Right! Once we've been to the after show party. I'm planning on staying real close to Cinders an' havin' me some hot party action!"

Some nagging uncertainty caused Sam to come to a standstill, and it instantly attracted Dean's attention. Dean turned his head, looking back over his shoulder at Sam, and Sam noted a worried expression on his older brother's face.

"Hey! _C'mon bro,_ no hangin' around!"

In the midst of encouraging Sam to move, Sam saw Dean's gaze flick to a point somewhere behind Sam, and quickly back again. Dean looked to have moved on from his worried status, now he was looking _much_ closer to irritated.

"Shake a tail feather brother. We need to scadaddle an' go get changed into our fancy gear!"

Sam felt a continuing sense of disquiet. _The Hell..? At what point did my tough takenoshitfromanyone big brother turn into the worlds biggest...panto ... fan?... Oh. __**Crap**__! ... ... __**No! **__... No, no, __**no**__!_

"Who the Hell are _you_? And where's Dean?"

-o-

"_Sammy_! ... **_Helpmm_**_mnnmph_."

Sam swiftly turned to look back in the direction that the now silenced call for help had come from; for a fraction of a second he stilled, becoming motionless at the sight which met him, during which he heard "Dean" curse and call out.

"_Balls_!**_ Loki_**? _Some help here please_?"

The resultant freeze frame as somebody hit the pause button didn't come as much of a surprise to Sam, having seen the same trick being used earlier in the day. He rapidly checked whether anyone but himself still had movement. In the wings area, Rufus and Zachariah were busily clinging onto a wriggling and squirming Garth-alike. Rufus had one large hand clamped firmly over Garth-alike's mouth. The sound of the audience shouting at Matilda to do a cartwheel had suddenly cut out, leading Sam to assume the whole audience had been frozen. Turning again to check on "Dean," Sam sighed wearily on seeing the Trickster standing next to his fake brother and getting an ear bashing from him.

"Sort this out Loki, _now_! You _promised_ me I'd get to be the one dancing with Cinders tonight!"

Sam's measured voice interrupted before the Trickster could respond to the demands of fake Dean.

"The first thing you're going to do is tell those two back there to get their hands off my brother."

The Trickster gazed across to where the pair holding the Garth-alike were struggling to contain the fury blazing out of him. He looked back at Sam with a small smirk.

"Actually, technically they aren't touching your brother, because _technically_ Dean's right here, with us, and it's my little Garth creation they're clinging onto...Technically speaking."

Sam answered using only his eyes.

"Ok! Fine! ... _Hey, guys_? Let him go, it's ok. I got everything under control here, thanks! ... _Happy now_?"

Sam's narrow eyed stare grew more intense.

"Ohhh, you've got a _lonnnng_ way to go yet before I start getting anywhere _close_ to happy."

"_Oi_! Forget the giant, what about _me_? _I'm_ not exactly feelin' happy clappy right now you know! You made me a _promise_!"

Fake Dean was hit by twin glares as Sam and the Trickster both advised him to _Shut the fudge up! _Roughly half a second later, a body shot past Sam at high speed and barrelled straight into the Trickster with a roar, managing to knock the God down to the floor with it's momentum. In a flash, Garth-alike was sat astride the Trickster's chest and pummelling him in the face.

"_Put me back in my own body you worthless pile of rabid rat puke_!"

Quickly moving to drag the enraged man off the Trickster, Sam vaguely wondered which was the bigger pantomime; the one happening out on the stage? Or the one that seemed to be taking place off it?

**-o-o-o-o-**

Is everyone keeping up? :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Chap 11**

A Moment of Honesty

-o-o-o-o-

_"Ow! _Look wha' you did to by _dose_! By dose's bleedin! _Look ad it_! You're **_crazy_**!"

"An' _you're _a **_dead_** man...God...Thing...Whatever! _Leggo_ of me Sam, I'm not through pounding on him yet!"

Sam's grip on Garth-Dean's upper arms tightened and he gave his furious brother a slight shake.

"Oh yes you are."

Dean-Garth, who had been watching his body attacking Loki with interest, instantly found himself answering Sam.

"Oh no, he's not!"

Sam, Garth-Dean and the Trickster from his position sat on the floor pinching the bridge of his nose, all stilled and turned to stare at Dean-Garth, who was himself standing with one hand clamped over his own mouth, eye's widened in surprise. Frowning, Sam glanced down at the Trickster, getting a simple shrug of his shoulders in response. Sam turned his attention back on to Dean-Garth who, on reading the expression on Sam's face, began shaking his head frantically. Sam gave him an apologetic look.

"Oh yes he is?"

Dean-Garth visibly struggled to keep his hand held over his mouth, but the desire was simply too great to ignore.

"Oh no, he isn't..._Damn_!"

Still in Sam's firm grip, Garth-Dean sniggered, immediately apologising when Sam glared at him. On the plus side, Garth-Dean no longer felt like a frag grenade about to go off in Sam's hands, his temper having been cooled to a large degree by the distraction created by the current situation. The sound of two pairs of feet jogging over to the small group offered further diversion. Garth-Dean scowled when he saw the feet belonged to Rufus and Zak who both ground to a halt in front of Dean-Garth, an eager look on their faces as they spoke in unison.

"Oh yes, he _is_!"

The Trickster hurriedly got to his feet and moved to stand alongside Sam as Dean-Garth gave up the fight.

"Oh no, he _isn't_!"

As one, Sam, Garth-Dean and the Trickster moved themselves away from the other three men and watched fascinated for a while as the trio continued throwing _oh no's_ and _oh yes'_ back and forth with no sign of stopping. It was Garth-Dean who broke the silence between the trio.

"It's like they're stuck, none of them seems able to break the cycle! How the Hell am I going to get my body back now?"

Sam glared at the Trickster.

"Can you stop them?"

The Trickster frowned and wandered across to the hapless men, beginning to circle them thoughtfully, occasionally raising one hand as if testing some invisible wall surrounding the trio. Garth-Dean grew impatient.

"Well? What's the verdict?"

Shoving both hands in his pants pockets, the Trickster strolled back to Sam and Garth-Dean.

"Best I can tell? It's a case of good news, bad news. Which do you want first? Oh, and you? You punch like a girl in that body."

Sam saw Garth-Dean tense in response to the Trickster's words.

"_Enough_! _Both _of you! Ok, give us the bad news first, might as well get it over with."

The Trickster grinned at Garth-Dean before glancing back at the happy _oh yes_, _oh no-ing _trio_._

"Bad news it is then. No, I _can't _stop them, not yet anyway. I'm being blocked out some how...This isn't something _I've _caused. _Honestly_!"

Garth-Dean took a step closer to the Trickster, instantly being reminded of how much shorter he was in Garth-alike's body, how much less physically threatening he was able to be.

"Since when were _you _ever honest about _anythin_'? Why should we believe you on this?"

The Trickster sighed.

"I guess I have to give you that one ... Ok, one thing you _both_ know to be true about me, I like...No...I _need_ to be in charge, in control. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

"So, why would I intentionally let anyone, _especially_ you two, know that I'm _not _incontrol of those three? I'm_ not_ in charge of how they're acting and, I don't have a bloody _clue_ how to _stop_ them? Now, you gotta admit, that's not something you'd expect to hear from _me_!"

Sam nodded his acceptance.

"You said there was some good news?"

The Trickster's expression brightened and he gave Garth-Dean a playful punch to the shoulder. Garth-Dean scowled at him.

"Don't you_ ever_ do that again jackass! You an me? Not friends. Never gonna _be_ friends. _Understand_?"

The Trickster's smile stayed put and he added a broad wink just for Garth-Dean.

"_Maybe_...How 'bout if I tell you I can still pop you back into your own body...I think."

-o-

Garth-Dean immediately positioned himself so he was front on to the Trickster and screwed his eyes up, tightly closing them.

"Do it."

"Whoa, _both_ of you jerks!"

Garth-Dean opened his eyes again, and found a Sam tower standing between himself and the Trickster.

"Sammy? Move!"

"Make me, Shorty! ... What d'you mean, you_ think _you can do this? It _was_ you who did the first swap, wasn't it?"

The Trickster's eyes narrowed as he looked up at Sam.

"Just so's we're clear? He'd better not try hitting me again. Ok?"

Sam folded his arms across his chest.

"Dean? Are you planning on hitting him again?"

"No. Not yet."

The Trickster rolled his eyes.

"Fine! Yes. I set up the first swap. My Garth's got the hots for Cinders but, lets face it, he's aiming _waaayyyy_ out of his league. I was doin' the little guy a favour, you know? Doin' something _nice_ for someone; kinda like when I set this whole shindig up for you two! Can't deny though, the idea of Deanie here finding himself stuck inside the scrawny little squirt's body did have it's appeal. How're you liking it in there? ... _Anyhoo. A_ll Garth had to do was to touch Dean while the Fairy Godmother was spreadin' her own brand of magic out on stage. I _swear_ it's set to reverse anyway, soon as I send you back; but I'm_ totally_ prepared to do it right now...There's just that one _tinsy_ little risk."

Sam gave the Trickster some encouragement, having noticed him glance nervously at Garth-Dean.

"And the risk is?"

"That the weird loop those three are caught up in might cause a little mishap."

"Such as?"

"Well, let's see if I've got this right. The result we're looking for here is Dean's self back in Dean's body, and Garth's body left stuffed full of Garth, that it?"

Both Sam and Garth-Dean nodded.

"And I'm _certain_ that's what we'll get, I am! It just that...Look, I can't completely guarantee we won't end up with a whole Garth hanging out here with Sam and me. If _that_ happened, it would mean that the whole_ Dean _ends up standing over there, trapped in the bizarre _yesno_ cycle. Get it?"

Sam sighed and turned to Garth-Dean.

"You understand what he's sayin'?"

"Yeah Sammy, I understand. Tiny body doesn't automatically mean tiny brain, you know?"

"I didn't mean it like that! It's just, I think this decision has to be yours Dean, given the potential risk involved. I'll stand by whatever you choose to do brother."

Dean stepped up to the Trickster and looked him straight in the eyes, his expression determined.

"Let's do this."

**-o-o-o-o-**

Hope not everyone is as confused as I am? **;**P


	12. Chapter 12

**_May 2014 bring good things to you all. Happy New Year :D_**

**Chap 12**

Tiara's and tempers

**-o-o-o-o-**

Garth-Dean was standing near to his body, currently inhabited by Garth, staring at the _yesno_ trio who were clearly very much in their own little world and showed no signs of being aware of the three onlookers.

"So, how's this thing work?"

The Trickster looked a little embarrassed.

"Well. The first stage is ..."

The God snapped his fingers and a glass of amber coloured liquid appeared in his hand.

"...You have to drink this."

Dean reached out to take the glass and sniffed at the contents suspiciously. As soon as he did, his head whipped up and he fixed the Trickster with an angry glare.

"Whisky? You...You _roofied_ me! Back in the bar! You _underhand_, _scheming_ little _snot faced_..."

"_Duh _... Loki here? And I told you, I was simply trying to do something nice! Maybe y'all should try to remember that?"

"Nice for _him_, what about _me_?"

"_Both of you_! Give it a rest, please? Dean? Would you just drink the damn whisky!"

Dean stared into the glass muttering _Better be the good stuff_ before downing the contents in two consecutive swallows, closely following it with an outburst of coughing and gagging, his eyes watering in response to the intense and highly unpleasant burning sensation in his throat.

"_Sonovabitch_! I could run the Impala on this crap!..._Ghargghh_!"

The Trickster reached out and helpfully began to pat the spluttering Garth-Dean on the back, only to quickly be shrugged off.

"Do..Not..Touch me! _Jeeze_! What the Hell happens next?"

"Well, ideally there needs to be a little magic in the air, just to act as a conduit."

Sam gave a small frown.

"Wasn't that the Fairy Godmother the first time around?"

"Nearly right. It wasn't so much her though, it was actually something she had on her."

Sam nodded his understanding.

"Ok, so, is there anything I've got on _me_ than could hold some magic temporarily?"

"Nice idea but, this' a reverse swap we're doing here? That means it has to be the original item again."

Garth-Dean began a second round of coughing, turning his head away to hide his amused smile from his brother when his mind immediately created the crystal clear image of Sam prancing around in a fairy frock. Guessing what his older brother was thinking, Sam fixed the Trickster with humourless stare.

"If you say it's her dress..."

"No! No, of course it isn't. I can be discrete on occasions you know!"

Sam nodded in resignation.

"Fine, go ahead. Do what you have to."

The Trickster grinned broadly.

" Go _Ahead_? Right then._ There_ you are."

Garth-Dean stole a glance, and promptly erupted back into helpless laughter. Sam looked from Garth-Dean to the Trickster in confusion before then looking down at himself. Seeing nothing out of place, his confusion regarding his brother's laughter increased, until it occurred to him where the magic might have been contained. Sam twisted his head and upper body around in an attempt to see his own back, checking out the awful possibility that he could well find himself sporting a pair of pale blue wings. He was relieved to find he was completely wing free. He looked at the Trickster questioningly, and was answered a quick flick of the Trickster's eyes up to the top of Sam's head and down again.

Sam's expression became one of resignation as he reached up to pat at his head with one hand. Sure enough, there it perched. The Fairy Godmother's tiara. Sam sighed. Garth-Dean broke down into another bout of laughter at the scowl and quick flush of embarrassment that formed on Sam's face.

"_Unbelievable_! I mean, _seriously_? Please tell me you're kidding? You don't _really_ expect me to _wear_ this thing, do you?"

The Trickster gazed up at Sam innocently.

"_Me_ expect...? Noooo, not me. I don't recall saying _anything_ about you having to _wear_ it. It'd work equally well if you just held it in your hand but, _hey_, don't think that means you _have_ to take it off, dude. If _you _wanna stick to wearing it like that? Be my guest...Live and let live eh? Anyway, it _does_ look strangely kinda cute on you. And there's nobody can say you haven't got the hair for it Sammy."

Yanking the glittering tiara off his head, Sam gave an exasperated huff..

"It's _Sam_ to you...Get on and do the damn swap over, _now_!"

"Ok, ok! Just kiddin about, that's all. Trying to raise a smile, you know? Fine; Dean? I need you to go stand directly behind..._your body_. When I give you the nod, all you need do is reach out and touch it quickly three times, then step away. If this works, the swap will be almost immediate."

-o-

Dean looked down at himself, delighted to see his own legs once more and to see that the floor looked further away again. Scanning around, he was pleased to see that Garth-alike seemed to be physically no worse for wear apart, that is, from both his mind _and_ his body now being energetically involved in the ongoing exchange of _yesno's _with Rufus and Zak.

"Look Sam, it worked! I'm back to bein' man sized again, instead of _fun _sized. Awesome!

Sam smiled at Dean, but as he handed the tiara back to the Trickster, his smile faded and the look Sam gave the shorter man was both stern and serious.

"So...What about these three? You planning on walking away now? Leaving them here stuck in their loop till you decide it's time to clap your hands and make them, along with all your other puppet players, disappear? Is that how this works? These, and all the other characters, simply pop out of existence once you've had your kicks and this little game's over? Or, how about if Dean and me refuse to have anything more to do with your freaky pantomime? What happens then?"

-o-

Seemingly ignoring Sam's questions, the Trickster turned away and stared thoughtfully at the _yesno_ trio for a while. Dean's impatience and general annoyance towards the Trickster began to raise it's head again.

"My brother asked you a question, numb nuts."

The Trickster continued watching the _yesno_ trio carefully whilst he answered.

"Really? Is that what it was? 'Cos all _I _got was blah, blah, blah."

Dean moved to plant himself in the Trickster's line of sight, forcing the God to look at him.

"Answer the damn question."

Despite being noticeably smaller than Dean, The Trickster looked him up and down in silence, as though Dean were a vaguely interesting new species of insect.

"You know. I _do_ admire your courage Winchester. You're a lot like one of those cute, fluffy, tiny wee dogs, yapping it's brave little heart out as fiercely as it can, because it stupidly seems to believe it's got what it takes to challenge a pit bull ... The pit bull in question would be me by-the-way ... Kinda makes you adorable, but outstandingly dumb! Now, unless you've got any bright or useful ideas to contribute, might I suggest that you _move the fudge_ out of my way so that_ I_ can concentrate on finding a solution for this. Ok?"

Dean bristled, but Sam's voice cut in, effectively subduing any answer he was about to throw at the God.

"I think _I_ might have figured out what it's gonna take to stop those three. If anybody's interested that is.? Or should I assume the only sound I'm makin' here is _blah, blah_ and leave the _pit bull_ to get on with the important task of licking his own nuts?"

Both Dean and the Trickster turned their attention to Sam.

**-o-o-o-o-**

_Thank you both to the regulars and the guests who have been kind enough to comment and review, it's you who motivate me to write the next chapter as quick as I can. Any other motivators __**extremely**__ welcome_ :D

Chick xxx


	13. Chapter 13

**Chap 13**

A wonderful mind

**-o-o-o-o-**

The Trickster tilted his head on one side.

" Great! This should be good. Come on then Winchester the younger, let's hear your words of wisdom."

Sam strolled closer to the _yesno_ trio and walked around them. He was concerned to note that not one of them so much as glanced at him in acknowledgement of his presence, they were now so completely lost in their repeating loop. He guessed that, as far as the three were concerned, nothing existed for them any more beyond their own interaction. Sam stopped walking when his circling brought him back to where Dean and the Trickster were watching and waiting. The Trickster began tapping one foot impatiently.

"Well? Feel like sharing yet Sammy boy?"

"The name's still Sam to you. You said earlier that you weren't the one causing this? That you had no control over it...Was that the truth?"

"_Oh for_...! _Yes_! I'm not doing this. This one's out of my hands. Not guilty m'Lud, Wasn't me wot did it Guv. For this I am not responsible. It ain't I. I'm innocent I tell you, innocent!...Do I need to go on?"

"No, I think I get the gist of it, and I believe you, for a change. You created this monster, but I'm thinking maybe it's outgrown you. Even if you somehow developed a conscience and tried to bring this whole thing to a halt, tried to send Dean and me back to where you snatched us from, I don't think you would be able to do it any time soon.. I think _all_ of us are stuck here. And yes, that includes _you_. I also think that's how it's going to stay, at the very_ least_ until the panto finishes. Tell you what, why don't you give it a go? Try snapping yourself out of here, _right_ out, say to the motel Dean and I were staying in."

"Sammy? You sure about this? What if the little skunk don't come back?"

"Trust me Dean, he won't be able to leave."

The Trickster shrugged.

"Fine. Anything I can get you guys while I'm out? No? Ok, see you around, maybe."

Sam's smile was grim as he watched the Trickster snapping his fingers, each time more frantic than the last until, after half a dozen attempts, he let his hand drop back to his side and set his expression into neutral; though not before both Sam and Dean saw the fear flash in his eyes. Sam eyed the God coldly.

"Like I said, we're _all_ stuck, _including_ you."

-o-

The Trickster ran a hand over his face then gave Sam a brief nod.

"Alright genius. You've made your point, congratulations. Now how about you set too and figure us a way out of this?"

Sam turned to look at his brother.

"Already done that."

Dean grinned back at Sam, his pride in his brother clear to see.

"Way to go baby brother!"

The Trickster's attitude instantly changed.

"Yeah! Great job Sam! Really, outstanding! So, gonna share with the rest of the class?"

Sam looked back at the Trickster, the smile he'd had for his brother now barely there.

"With Dean, sure. But you? Well, that depends."

The Trickster recognised his options were somewhat diminished.

"No problem. Whatever you want Sammy.._Sam_..Just say the word."

"Fine...I want to know what's going to happen to all these people here at the end of your puppet theatre. I get that they're not real, we guessed they're just creations out of your perverse little mind, so. Will they simply flash out of existence?"

-o-

The Trickster looked startled. Clearly Sam's question wasn't anywhere close to what he had been expecting and he seemed to have been caught off guard. Dean frowned, spider senses tingling.

"They _are_ just characters out your own head, aren't they? I mean, Cinders isn't_ really_ Jo, and Ella isn't Jessica? And it's not _actually_ my dad wandering around in a ridiculous dress, or Bobby, or Cas, _is_ it?...Well?"

"_No_! No, you're right, it's _not_ them, but ... Look, it's complicated. You'd probably not really understand."

"Try us."

"_Alright_! NoSam...They _won't_ just go poof and vanish. Because they're _real_. Real livin', breathin' humans, _ok_? I've just..._manipulated_ them a bit. Just a minor amount, you know? Nothin' permanent I promise, hand on heart!"

Dean strode up to the Trickster, then leaned forward until he was just a couple of inches off the Trickster's face, his gaze steady, his voice quiet, angry, threatening, deadly.

"E_xactly_ what have you done you _sonova_..."

"I've...Well, I've just given them a little tweak here and there really. You know, altered their appearance, their memories, where they think they are ... Stuff like that is all."

-o-

Sam looked at the Trickster astounded.

"You can do all that?"

The Trickster threw Sam a withering look.

"Sam. _Sammy_. You of _all_ people shouldn't need to ask me that; or is Tuesday back to being just another day of the week now?"

Sam narrowed his eyes, but didn't answer. His eternal Tuesdays were not something he wanted to reminisce about; especially with one who orchestrated the whole damn nightmare. Dean took over.

"And when you've done with them? What happens then?"

The Trickster bowed his head and inspected his fingernails briefly before answering.

"That was supposed to depend on you two."

"Go on."

"I was goin' to use them to make an agreement with you both if necessary, You know, finish the panto, _have some fun for_ _goodness' sake_ and I'd _guarantee; _ I'll zap them all back to where they're supposed to be ."

"You're sayin' they'd all go back to normal, no memory of us, you, or any of this? They'll simply pick up where they left off and you will _never_ interfere with them or treat them like your own personal playthings_ ever_ again?"

"_Jeeze!_... **_Yes_**, yes. Alright? _Everything you said_. Good enough?"

Dean turned to Sam.

"What d'you think?"

Sam kept his hard stare on the Trickster whilst he answered.

"I think he's a conniving, sociopathic son of a _bitch, _but ok. _This_ time. Know this though you little asshat. You'd be wise to stay way from my brother and me once this is over if you want to keep breathing. We've killed Gods before and, if necessary, we won't hesitate to do it again. Take this as fair warning!"

"_Boy_! Never had _you_ down to be the grudge holder!"

**-o-o-o-o-**

_Two chapters in one day, see how much I care? __**;**__p_


	14. Chapter 14

**Chap 14**

The task ahead

**-o-o-o-o-**

"Look guys, you might not've got the sunshine and roses answer you were looking for, but I _did_ answer, _and_ I told you the truth, _again_! And I absolutely guarantee that every one of my er, _actors,_ will get to go back home. All of them happy and none the wiser ... Tell you what? As an added bonus and to help you to turn your frowns upside-down, I'll _even _throw in a smattering of good luck for each one of them. That do it for you?"

The Trickster watched as a silent communication passed between the two Hunters, ending with a nod from Dean to Sam. Sam focused on the waiting Trickster again.

"It'll do...For starters."

"Great! So, Sam my man, share! What do we do to get out?"

"Like I said, I think we're in situation where no one gets to go home, or anywhere else, at least not until the panto itself finishes. My guess is we have to give this _thing _you've created what it wants."

Honest confusion showed itself on the Trickster's face.

"What thing? I haven't created a _thing _... Have I?"

"Sure you have...This whole set up is your creation, the whole _panto_ thing, who plays who, the audience, me and Dean being here, the roles you'd given us, everything. And, you know what? You did a really good job, everything was going the way it should, right up to the point you started interfering in the stage play itself. You'd _somehow_ managed to pull together all the magical ingredients that make pantomimes the amazing experience that they are, everything that it takes to make the show come alive. You know, the whole _concept_ of pantomimes is unique. There's nothing else like them. _Everybody _who goes to one finds themselves having a good time and they all end up loving it. No one leaves a panto unhappy, and everyone promises themselves that the next time panto season comes around, they'll be back for more. Kids or adults, it don't matter. Age, gender, rich, poor. Pantomimes reach out to everyone, and that makes them a very special kinda thing. And here's something else about them, no matter which one you see, despite whatever might crop up during a performance, or even if some things go wrong; there's one thing completely guaranteed, a common denominator you can rely on, a constant that _has _to happen ..."

The Tricksters eyes were wide, the whole of his attention fixed on Sam Winchester as he hung on every word, so when Sam intentionally paused, he couldn't help but react.

"What? What they all got in common? Please, you can't just leave it hangin'!"

Sam smiled and gave the Trickster a wink.

"_Exactly_!"

-o-

Wanting support in persuading Sam to spill the beans, (without going on to grow a sky high beanstalk complete with giant waiting at the top), the Trickster looked around for Dean. He spotted his potential back up standing with his arms folded across his chest, casually leaning up against the corner of a lighting tower and sporting a small smile of amusement. To the Trickster, it appeared Dean was either quite content to wait until his brother decided to clarify his thoughts, or he already knew what Sam was babbeling about. Either way, the sight of the older Hunter's smile niggled at the Trickster and made him feel somewhat irritated. He returned his focus back to Sam.

"Any chance _what-so-ever_ of you speaking _English _in the near future? 'Cos right now you're doing really well at being a pain in my backside. What do you say, Winchester?"

Sam gazed at the Trickster with feigned sadness.

"Aw ... Did nobody read you fairy stories when you were a little baby Godling? I suppose that _could_ explain how you grew up so snarky. You know, having had an unfulfilled childhood and all? Me? I was lucky. See, no _way_ he'd admit it himself, but_ I_ had this incredible big brother who risked his young tough guy reputation and his chick magnet charms by reading me stories at bedtime. _That's_ how I know what needs to happen before any of us can leave here."

"Oh Stop or I might need a tissue... Just tell us!"

"Fine ... In the end? The good guys always _live happily ever after_."

-o-

Dean straightened up, his thinking quickly falling in step with his brother's..

"Of _course_ they do! I should've remembered that! Nice one. Also? Glad to know havin' to read all that soppy stuff to you wasn't a waste! So...What's keeping us stuck here will _un-_stick us, provided it gets it's happy ending?"

"That's my theory."

The Trickster's stare moved from Sam to Dean and then back again.

"What..._The Hell_...Are you two _morons_ squawking' about?"

Sam rolled his eyes before speaking slowly and clearly to the Trickster.

"It's how every pantomime ends. Understand? Panto's are all about the whole good triumphs over evil, dreams can come true, if you're good then your wishes could be granted kinda deal, and I think the message we're being given here is loud and clear!"

Dean nodded his agreement.

"Yup. Me too; I get it."

The Trickster glared at Dean, snapping petulantly at him.

"Well, ain't that just peachy for you?"

Dean raised one eyebrow and smirked back at the Trickster.

"You're kiddin' right? No way you _still_ haven't figured it? Unbelievable! Especially seein' as how you're the _reason_ we got trapped here."

"Oh, here we go. It's all down to me. Let's _all_ blame Loki..."

Sam cut the Trickster off.

"Actually, Dean's right. It's your interference that's caused this. _You_ started this whole thing rolling but, as usual, you weren't content to just sit back and watch, let it just play out. _Twice _so far you've caused a freeze frame and, in between that, you _really_ screwed up by thinking it was ok to magically swap the essence of one of the leading men, and then put a substitute out there on stage! Like I've already said, this thing's grown bigger than you are, and _you've_ managed to piss it off."

".. **! **.."

"Damn! Now _there's _something you don't see every day Sammy. The Trickster, _Loki_, speechless! Gotta be one for the journal! If only we could freeze frame _him_ right now."

"Dean, quit it, _enough_!"

"Yeah Deanie. Listen to your more intelligent brother and stop sniping like you're nothing but an obnoxious little child."

"Oh, that's rich, coming from _you_! The supreme_ God_ of obnoxiousnessesseses!"

"_Bite me_ ... So, this message we're being given? The panto wants it's happy ending."

Dean gave an exasperated sigh.

"We _told_ you that already, jerk!"

Sam was certain he could feel the beginnings of a headache and he rubbed a hand across his forehead.

"Dean? Just tell him, will you?"

Dean happily fixed his focus onto the Trickster.

The message we're being given here...For the slow of thinkin' God amongst us, is this. ... ... _The show must go on!"_

For a second time within a short period, the Trickster simply stood in silence, as he digested the older Hunter's words.

**-o-o-o-o-**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chap 15**

The Waltzing Winchesters

**-o-o-o-o-**

Sam couldn't help himself , looking at the silent Trickster, he felt some semblance of pity as he looked at the God, despite everything.

"I guess you weren't to know this thing would take on a life of it's own, but we _can_ put things right. I need to work with us for once. You think you can you do that?"

The Trickster finally lifted his head and met Sam's eyes.

"It was supposed to be fun, that's all. I had this great idea about droppin' you two into a pantomime, see how you coped, you know? Never thought anyone might get stuck in the damn thing, _especially_ not me! So, I guess since I want to get out of here, I've not got much choice. I'll work with the pair of you, this one time."

Dean stared at the Trickster.

"Oh man! That must've hurt."

The Trickster refused to look at Dean, continuing to address Sam.

"Just to make things clear? Once we're out of here, don't expect any change in our relationship. Understand?"

Any sympathy Sam had felt fled as he nodded.

"Sure, I understand. That's fine by me, so long as _you_ remember that I still owe you for the sheer Hell of the Groundhog days you put me through. I'd suggest you think about that, before you ever come anywhere near me and my brother after this."

The Trickster grinned.

"Good to know things'll be back to normal. So, what do you want me to do first?"

-o-

Dean looked down at what he was now wearing in readiness for his next appearance on stage and was pleased to realise that he was now in full length trousers at least, even if they _were _close fitting and made out of dark blue velvet. The boots he wore now were classic knee high black riding boots, embellished by a vertical gold stripe running down the outer side. On his upper half he was wearing a white cotton shirt which had a neckline of soft lace ruffles. It's long sleeves also had layers of soft lace attached at the wrists in such a way as to poke out from the end of the sleeves of the ubiquitous frockcoat. This coat was longer than the previous, ending at mid thigh. Made of golden silk it was heavily embroidered in swirls of silk thread that perfectly matched the blue of his pants. Each of the buttons down the front of the coat glittered with blue rhinestones Three matching buttons decorated the cuffs of the coat. Feeling an odd sensation around his head, Dean reached up to feel a circlet of metal. Taking it off, Dean glowered at the gold coloured band, decorated all around with large oval rhinestones, again coloured blue.

"Seriously? I really have to wear this thing?"

The Trickster shot Dean a _you really need to ask?_ Look.

"You're supposed to be a _prince_. Princes wear crowns. Right?

Dean rammed the thing back on his head with a huff.

"I feel stupid!"

The Trickster smirked and shook his head.

"Hate to break it to you, but that's not just a _feeling_!"

Dean glared and gave the God the finger before turning to see what his brother was clothed in. Sam's costume was a replica of Dean's in everything but colour. Sam was dazzling in his frockcoat made from of a lighter shade of gold and embroidered in the same manner as Dean's, but the thread being coloured dark, forest green, as were his close fitting pants. He too wore a circlet of gold, his was decorated with deep green round rhinestones, which matched the green of his sparkling buttons. Dean was impressed.

"Hey Sammy! You actually look like a _real_ prince in that lot. Maybe you should wear that kinda thing all the time? I bet it'd give you an edge over the competition when you're hustling pool!"

Sam laughed.

"_Jerk_! Ok, Loki? Dean and I need some time alone. _You_ need to go get the panto rolling again, check everything's ok, everyone's doing what they should be doing and get yourself back behind the bar. I'm guessin' with the Fairy Godmother bein' on stage, this' where she tells Cinders and Ella they can go to the ball and organises their dresses and transport?"

"Yup. Then there's the big set change into the ballroom part. You two need to be on stage at curtain up for that bit doing some princely mingling... Erm, why d'you need some alone time?"

"I need to teach Dean to waltz."

"Really? You know, I can always delay startin' things up again? Hang around here, help out, let you know how it looks, laugh..._No_? Killjoy!"

-o-

"Just pretend I'm Cinders!"

"Not happenin'. You're ugly, she's not."

"Fine...But you still have to hold my hand."

"Can't I just pretend _that _bit?"

"Hand, now!"

"_Yeesh_..._Oi_! What you doin'?

"_Jeeze_! Putting my arm around your back, you need to do the same to me."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes Dean, I'm sure. _Well_? ... Ok, not like it's a death grip, lightly...that's better. Also? Stop squeezing my hand like that, you've cut the circulation off in my fingers! Relax for Chrissake."

"Sammy? No one, an' I mean _no one_, ever hears about this or you're _completely_ dead, hear me?"

"Really? Not just partially dead?"

"_Completely_. Can we move it on, or is this it? We just stand here holding hands and huggin?"

"Ok. Now, your feet."

-o-

"Ouch! Dean! My fudgin' toes, _again_."

"Sorry."

"It might help if you stopped stomping up and down like you're on a bloody route march. It's a _dance_!"

"S'more like a game of chess with your feet, an' stop _twirlin_'! You're makin me want to puke!."

"Ok, time out ... There's gotta be a way to do this."

"I know! I could be limping and then tell Cinders I broke my leg, so I can't dance with her, and we can move straight on to making out. Whad'yer think?"

"Shut up while I try to figure this. ... ... Ok! Try this. Grab on...Not so tight, you're not tryin' to restrain me, right? Now, remember dad's fencing lessons? How quick and light you had to be on your feet? Imagine that's how you need to move, only instead of a fencing sabre, you're holding a beautiful woman, ok? Here we go...One two three, one two three, one two three, turn, two three...That's it! You're doing it! Dean Winchester is waltzing! ... _Ouch_!"

**-o-o-o-o-**


	16. Chapter 16

_Discovered that if you're fic is set in a pantomime, you kinda have to write about  
__the panto too! Hence the next two chapters focuses on the on stage events._

**Chap 16**

Act III The Royal Ball

**-o-o-o-o-**

The scenery change had completely altered the look of the stage. Gone was the inside of Cinders' and Ella's humble home and one of the pairs of curtains at the back of the stage had been opened to reveal a wide, pure white staircase flecked with silver and consisting of twelve broad steps. The silver flecks were designed to glitter and shine under the stage lights. The painted back scenery on either side of the stairs included three white fluted columns on each side and clever use of tromp l'huile gave the illusion of the stage floor extending back beyond the columns. There were paintings of paintings, looking as though they were hung on opulent pale and dark green papered walls. Ornate chairs had been skilfully painted to look as though they stood on the floor up against the ball room walls. and they perfectly mimicked their four real counterparts which were positioned in such a way at one side of the stage that they looked to be a continuation of the line of pictorial chairs. Two glass chandeliers had been lowered into place and now hung above the stage, and hanging in a central position, above the staircase, was the large round face of a golden clock.

-o-

Sam and Dean moved to one side as four men, each carrying a different instrument scurried past them and onto the stage, seating themselves on the four chairs. One man had a string less violin, another an old fashioned concertina, the third held an oboe whilst the last was carrying a harpsichord on stage which, when seen in close up, was clearly a prop. They were all dressed alike in white hose and white shirt topped off with red waist coats and tail coats. Their shoes were long and black patent with a huge silver buckle. Each man sported a white, court room style wig on their head. Dean gave Sam a nudge.

"D'you think they'll take requests?"

Sam grinned.

"Can't say as I'd hold out much hope for any Zepplin covers."

Next to take their places were a dozen females, all dressed in period gowns. Four wore gowns in differing shades of yellow, and the last four more wore deep purple on through to lilac. All had large pieces of costume jewellery glittering around their necks, on their wrists and hanging from their ears. Their head gear varied from plumes of bright coloured feathers, to high wigs with shimmering strands woven into them, whilst three each wore a different, dainty little fancy. The women separated themselves into small mixed groups and stood themselves here and there around the back section of the stage, representing invited single ladies for the two princes to consider for possible wives. Following them in taking up their positions came four men and four more women, and again all were dressed up in sparkling finery worthy of a royal ball. Splitting into male and female pairs, they positioned themselves spread around the central stage area where they stood quietly chatting, waiting for the time to take hold of their partners and begin to glide around the dance floor. Watching them, Dean felt his stomach begin to churn nervously and he swallowed hard. Sam patted him on his back.

"You'll be fine. Just remember, stay light on your feet and don't be tempted to keep your head down to watch them. Look at Cinders. She'll follow wherever you lead... Oh, and stay aware of where the other couples are, tried to avoid a collision course. If it looks like you're actually gonna crash? Pop in an avoidance turn or two."

Dean nodded.

"_Right_...Avoidance turns...Got it ... Sammy? ... I think I'm gonna puke."

A familiar voice from behind startled both Hunters.

"If you're gonna throw, you damn well better use this bucket lad, and do it _soon_. Curtain up in two minutes...Here."

- o -

Turning around, Sam smiled and nodded at the owner of the voice in greeting, whilst Dean found a red bucket shoved into his hands.

"Hey Rufus! How're you feeling?"

Rufus narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Sam.

"How'm I feelin' about what?

"He mean's, are you ok?"

Rufus' glare immediately switched to Dean.

"_Course_ I'm ok! Why wouldn't I be? _You're_ the one with the bucket lad...Ah _crap_! _Please..._Tell me the pair of you ain't drunk!..._Are you_?"

"No Sir."

"Well ok then. Keep the bucket kid, with my compliments."

Rufus wandered off again muttering under his breath _Damn fools. _Another cast member, resplendent in classic black top hat and tails, accessorised with a black bow tie and carrying a silver cane, strolled over to the two brothers.

"Hello Boys...I see you've managed to upset dear Rufus? Not to worry, it _really_ doesn't take much! So, you both ready for this? Please, remember, _don't_ saunter on before I finish announcing you. Wait until I turn and look this way. When I start to bow, that's your cue. You're up first, got that? The moose comes on once I've told people who you are. Got that moose?

Sam sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Even here. _Unbelievable_!"

"Pardon...? Oh, never mind. Deep breaths now boys. Ciao and, break a leg!"

Crowley quickly walked onto the stage without waiting for a reply and positioned himself front and centre. Placing the tip of his cane on the floor, he rested one hand over it's ornate filial and set the cane at a jaunty angle from his body. The dancers stopped their quiet conversations and moved to take a light hold on their partners. The four piece band stationed themselves ready to look as though it was they who were creating the music for the dancers. The pairs and small groups of women spread themselves further apart and stood straighter, ready to look as if they were greeting the other person, or that they were chatting and observing the dancers, or commenting and weighing up the other females who were hoping to catch the eye of one of the princes. In the wings, standing waiting with Sam and Dean, were three liveried men, each carrying silver trays. One had a tray full of (plastic) wine glasses filled with non alcoholic fizzy drink in them, half were white and the other half filled with red. Another man had his tray piled high with small chunks of Turkish Delight that the actors could eat safely on stage and, the third servant's tray was piles with miniature cookies, again small enough for the actors to delicately nibble on, hopefully without choking or appearing to be stuffing their faces. Turkish Delight grinned at the brothers,

"Break a leg guys."

As he said it, there was the now familiar swishing sound of curtains gliding open and an appreciative roar from the crowd. Crowley/Buttons let the cheering continue for a few seconds before signalling the audience into an expectant hush. With a flourish, he removed his top hat and bowed deeply to the audience. Straightening up, he popped the top hat back on at a rakish angle.

"Ladies, Gentlemen, ankle biters and others. ... I bid you all _welcome_ to the magnificent ballroom of the Royal Palace..."

-o-

The musicians were "playing" a cheery quick step and the people dancing were moving around the dance floor smiling and nodding in greeting to one another. The observers were animated in their conversations, two of the women embraced, air kissing a hello whilst clearly checking each other's gowns and jewels competitively. The three servants walked out on to the stage and separated, beginning to sedately move through the guests offering drinks and finger foods. The stage looked busy and alive. Seeing fake Crowley turn so that he was directly facing towards the wings, Dean gave the bottom of his frock coat a tug then reached up to his crown.

"Quick. My crown. Is it straight?"

"You're good to go. Head up, remember you're a Royal Prince. I'll be right behind you."

"Honoured guests, single ladies. Would you pay tribute to your most generous hosts. It is my pleasure to announce the arrival of His Royal Highness ... Prince Charming."

Fake Crowley again removed his hat and bowed low as Dean walked out onto the stage. He immediately found himself surrounded by all the actresses,. All curtseying, some acting shy and demure, others openly making direct eye contact, one hid behind her fluttering fan, whilst another feigned swooning, once she had made certain she was close enough to Prince Charming for him to notice and to catch her as she gracefully fell into his arms where she determinedly and comically fought to stay. Whilst Dean struggled to extricate himself from his fainting fan, Fake Crowley continued.

"Ladies, ladies. There is_ two_ of them you know. Please welcome to the party, our equally handsome younger prince, His Royal Highness ... Prince Even-More."

**-o-o-o-o-**


	17. Chapter 17

**Chap 17**

Midnight

**-o-o-o-o-**

The music changed, and Sam found himself dragged bodily into the dance by a young lady who promptly began to use the opportunity to slide the hand she placed on his back right down to his butt. Each time he moved her hand up to his back, off it drifted again down to his backside. Dean was surrounded by three women and found himself completely unable to grab a drink or any finger food from the mingling servants. Each time he tried to reach out, another of the women would grab his hand and kiss it, or in one case, to the audiences delight, begin licking it lavisiosly. Dean duly beckoned over a servant and made a play of wiping his hand dry on the man's livery. The actors' attentions were diverted at the sound of fake Crowley's cane thumping against the top of the stairs where he now stood, announcing new arrivals.

"Your Royal Highnesses, ladies and gentlemen ... Lady Delightful and her cousin, Lady Wendygoo."

-o-

The third time that the cane was banged against the floor, it was accompanied by whoops and whistles from the audience, and there they were, the three of them, responding to the audience. The ugly sisters twirled this way and that, showing off the full effect of their glorious, riotous ball gowns; whilst Mama Cas removed fake Crowley's top hat and planted a scarlet lipstick kiss on his forehead before holding her hand to the side of his mouth indicating she was whispering something in fake Crowley's ear. Fake Crowley pulled his head away and looked to the two posing sisters before asking, in a voice loud enough for the audience to hear.

"Do I _have_ to?"

On stage, Sam and Dean without any need to put on an act, both stared up at the ugly sisters in open mouthed shock.

-o-

Joanna/John wore a high, bulbous hat that contained a light which flashed on and off. Her hairy, muscular and obviously male arms were bare except for numerous trashy over sized bangles and bracelets hanging off both forearms. From beneath the costume poked her legs, from the calf down, encased in red and white broad striped stockings. The rest of her was encased within a dress designed and shaped to look like a scarlet and white striped lighthouse. The stiffness of the costume forced her to hold her arms out at a 45 degree angle from her body. In one hand she clutched the handles of a huge straw basket, decorated all over with bright primary coloured wooden fish shapes. Her thick, heavy makeup appeared to have been applied with a piece of abstract art in mind although, applied with a trowel as it was, it still couldn't hide the shadow of her stubble. Raising an arm to wave coyly to the audience, it was clear that shaving her underarms was a task woefully neglected. Next to her, and taking up substantially more space, stood Roberta/Bobby in a costume that was a triumph of engineering design. Encasing her and hung from broad straps over her bare hairy shoulders, was a Spanish Galleon. Still with beard, on her head she wore a headdress in the form of a shark. The bright green bag she carried was shaped to represent an octopus and it seemed that the same abstract artist had gaily and frenetically applied Roberta's makeup. Mama Cas herself was dressed in subdued fashion by comparison, wearing a huge, highly ruffled and beribboned, bright yellow ball gown with the ruffles and ribbons made to stand out in contrasting black. Her own headdress was in the shape and colours of an over ripe banana.

Fake Crowley turned to announce the trio with a sad shake of his head.

"Your Royal Highnesses. Baroness Hardup and her..._beautiful_ and, oh crap..._fertile_ daughters, Joanna and Roberta. _Please_, it's not my fault, I _had_ to say it. She _threatened_ me!"

"Come along girls. Let us go talk to your husbands-to-be. _Coo-ee_ Princes. _We're here!_ You can tell all these other harlots to get lost now! ... Excuse me? Where are you both going? **_Stop right_****_there_**! We're coming down to you."

-o-

All the other party guests began to laugh and openly point. Mama Cas' voice carried above everything.

"See how those fishwives are staring and pointing my dears? They know when they've been outclassed! Roberta, hurry_ up_ darling!"

"But Mama, I keep stepping on my rigging!"

Dean and Sam turned to the audience and together they mouthed _Help!_ There was no escape, the terrible trio surrounded them and the ugly sisters began pawing them, showing off their dresses and, in Roberta's case, gazing moonstruck up at Sam, puckering her lips, making slapping sounds much like a feeding carp whilst suggesting _Kissy, kissy?_ Sam backed away.

"Allow me to fetch you ladies a drink"

He scuttled after the servant with the drinks tray. Suddenly alone, Dean smiled weakly.

"Erm...I'll just go give Prince Even-More a hand."

Chasing after Sam, Dean noticed fake Crowley heading down the stairs. He was halfway down when a voice shouted for his attention, _Oi! Top Hat! Where d'you_ _think_ _you're goin'_? A low murmuring began to rise up from the watching audience.

"Fairy Godmother! How lovely to see you here. Erm...Do you have an invitation?"

Charlie fairy held up her wand, waffing it meaningfully, a challenging under current flooding her voice and, as she spoke, the hands on the large clock face began to slowly move from their stationary 9 o'clock position, starting their journey to midnight.

"Do I _really_ need one?...Thought not...Now, hustle your butt back up here. There's the final two guests to announce."

Fake Crowley looked back down at the guests in confusion, making a show of counting them.

"Actually, I think you'll find they're all here."

"Don't argue..._Announce_!"

Fake Crowley glanced around helplessly and stage whispered,

"_Who_?"

-o-

The audience gasped with one voice when Cinders and Ella moved into view between Charlie Fairy and fake Crowley, who gaped at the pair before doffing his hat and bowing as low as he possibly could without tipping over.

"_Ladies_!"

At the sound of his exclamation, the actors standing around on stage gradually, in ones and twos, began to turn and stare up at the motionless girls at the top of the stairs. Those who were dancing slowed, stopped and looked to see what the others were focusing on. The band stopped playing, the four members standing up and craning their necks to have a look. The wine server quickly gulped down two glasses of wine off his own tray as he beheld the two girls. The audience were completely silent.

-o-

Baroness Hardup and the Ugly Sisters at last seemed to catch on to the fact that everything else had stilled, and they slowly turned. Both the Ugly Sisters' mouths dropped open. Now stuck behind the Baroness and her daughters, Sam and Dean's view was very effectively blocked. When they tried stepping to the right in order to see, the Baroness and her daughters shuffled to the right also, continuing to block the Prince's view. Sam and Dean moved left, so did the Baroness and Co. They scurried right, their human barrier kept up with them. They ran left, somehow the ship, the lighthouse and the banana managed a sideways run with them. Dean and Sam held a whispered conference for the benefit of the audience, and prepared to try again. Sam held one hand up in a fist, then lifted three fingers, one at a time. At the third finger, he and Dean squatted like American footballers, and ram raided their way through the blockade. The Baroness screeched out to them.

"**_Noooo_**! _Turn away Princey Wincey's_. _They're monstrous_. **_Noooooooooo!_**"

The princes looked up, and were instantly mesmerised as their eyes met the eyes of the two late arrivals.

Charlie Fairy glared at Fake Crowley.

"Well?"

Seeming to shake himself out of a stupor, fake Crowley coughed and turned to address the other guests.

"Er, La..Ladies and er, Gentlemen. Your Royal Highnesesseses. Erm...The guests do not wish to give their names; so may I simply announce the arrival of two _absolutely_ _beautiful,_ Princesses...Yes, _that's it_! They _must _be Royal Princesses! I mean..._Look_ at them! Well, you _are_ doing already, but...Oh my! Just_ look_ at them!"

Charlie Fairy whacked fake Crowley in the middle of his chest with her wand.

"Stop _babbling_ man! Off you go girls, go grab your princes, _but_! Don't you forget...**_Midnight_**! On the twelfth strike, _ok_? Go, get lost, enjoy yourselves."

The two girls began to gracefully descend the stairway. Both wore their blonde hair loose, styled in soft waves and with small white roses threaded here and there. Diamonds glittered in their tiaras and around their necks. Their gowns of snow white sparkled with a myriad of tiny crystals as they moved, twinkling and flashing rainbow glints under the stage lights. Each girl lifted the layers of fine chiffon forming the skirts of their dresses up to reveal their slender ankles and their feet, encased in clear and dainty crystal slippers, as they walked across to the two princes, curtsying low before them.

-o-

They danced. Oh, how they danced. And the brothers along with everyone else delighted in the Fred and Ginger style tap dancing routine performed up and down the stairway by Charlie Fairy and Crowley. Soon though, the two princes led Cinders and Ella to the front of the stage and the lighting changed. Now each couple stood in a deep blue spotlight, the music became background noise and the rest of the stage was clothed in darkness. All except the clock face. Picked out by one white spotlight, it looked almost like a full moon. The audience seemed to thrum in anticipation and then, at last. there it was ... Love's first kiss, just as the first chime of midnight sounded. And the audience sombrely joined in the count down.

**-o-o-o-o-**


	18. Chapter 18

**And here it is - the last chapter!**

**CHAP 18**

Awakenings to Endings

**-o-o-o-o-**

Sam groaned in denial at the sound of the alarm announcing the start of another day on the road. Keeping his eyes defiantly closed, he turned his head out of the comfort of his pillow slightly, just enough to allow his lips to move and words to happen.

"Dean..._Dean_. Alarm. Turn off ... ... Deeeaannn? ... ... _Dammit_ Dee! Turn the ... **_Shit_**!"

Sam sat bolt upright in his bed in the same amount of time it took for his eyes to shoot open. He rapidly scanned the layout and decor of the room. It definitely looked like the same motel room he had fallen asleep in the previous night. He turned to his right, to the bed next to his...It was empty.

-o-

Throwing back the covers, Sam swung his legs out of bed and sat a while, attempting to gather his fractured thoughts and memories. Had he been dreaming? Or had the Trickster_ really _transported him and his brother into some bizarre pantomime? And then came the all important internal question. Where the Hell was Dean? _Note. Look for a note. _He checked the bedside cabinet situated between the two beds. _Nothing_. _The table?_ Sam stood, and instantly closed his eyes against the swoosh of dizziness that hit him. Once he felt steadier on his feet, he opened his eyes again and quickly strode across to the dining table situated in the small kitchenette area. _No note there either_. _What the _crap_ is goin' on? Was it a dream or wasn't it? C'mon Sam, get a grip here!_

-o-

Someone was shaking him by the shoulder. Dean tried shrugging the hand away, he didn't feel like waking up yet. Unfortunately, the hand returned, shaking him yet again.

"Come on Dean. Wakey, wakey!"

"Go'way."

"Deanie...Open your eyes, _now_!"

Still mostly asleep, Dean frowned. The voice didn't sound like Sammy. He carefully opened one eye, and was met by the unnerving sight of the Trickster, squatting down by his side, watching him. Lifting his head, Dean realised he was still in the theatre, laying in the middle of the empty stage floor, a single spotlight shining down on himself and the Trickster.

"What the..? What's goin' off? Where's everyone else?"

The Trickster smiled down at him.

"You're still in the theatre. Everyone else's gone, back home. I _told_ you I'd send them all back, didn't I?"

Dean propped himself up on his elbow and gazed around, the Trickster certainly _seemed_ to be the only other person with him, even the audience had gone.

"Where's Sam? What've you done with him?"

"Like I said, everybody's all been sent home. Or, much more accurately in Sam's case, back to your current motel room."

Dean sat himself up fully.

"What?...What happened? We didn't get to finish the panto. What're you playing at, douche bag?"

"Oh, charming! If you'll excuse the totally intentional pun. I'm not playing at _anything_. I couldn't really let you do the last act."

Irritated and confused, Dean got to his feet and glared down at the God.

"Why not? What d'you mean? Tell me what the fu.._.fudge_ your game is!"

The Trickster gave a sigh and stood up as well. He looked at the Hunter seriously.

"The last act was never meant for you or for Sam."

Dean's irritation began to grow, starting to change into anger, and he moved to place himself firmly within the Trickster's personal space.

"Fine, so send me back to the motel, _jerkoff_!"

The Trickster stuck his bottom lip out, his expression disappointed.

"Don't you want to know _why_ I couldn't let you go looking for the owners of the crystal slippers?"

"Seriously? _No_. I couldn't give a rat's _ass_ why! But I guess I'm goin' to be stuck here till you tell me, aren't I?"

The Trickster bowed his head, silently considering Dean's response.

"_Well_?"

When the Trickster raised his head, his facial expression had returned to it's more commonly seen neutrality. He shrugged both shoulders.

"No, you're not going to be stuck here. Bye Dean. Say hi to Sammy. Hope you both managed to have some fun moments anyway. I'm sure we'll run into each other again in some shape or form...Oh! If you don't mind? There's a small favour you could do for me. I'd be grateful if one of you could just say see your way to saying goodbye to the real Bobby for me? You know, sometime soon."

-o-

Sam finished checking around the Impala, nothing looked to be out of place, except that Dean wasn't here, even though the Impala still was. He'd tried calling Dean, but his mobile switched straight to voicemail. Sam was worried, uncertain where to even _begin_ to look for his wayward brother. Everything had been fine the night before, which led Sam back to considering his dream, and the awful possibility that it really _hadn't_ been a dream at all. And, if it hadn't been a dream, that meant Dean was potentially being held by the Trickster. Sam knew he needed help. He needed to be able to summon and bind the Trickster in order to question him. He needed Bobby. With this in mind, Sam hurried back to the motel room.

-o-

Unlocking the door, Sam re-entered the room, and stalled. He quickly closed his eyes and opened them again. Nope, his brother was still there, laid out on his back on top of his bed, his eyes shut. Before moving, Sam fixed his eyes on Dean's chest, relieved to see the steady rise and fall that signified Dean was breathing. Only then did he hurry to his brother's side, sitting himself down on the edge of Dean's bed. He gave Dean's shoulder a gentle shake.

"Hey, Dean. Wake up."

There was no response and Sam frowned as he shook Dean more firmly.

"Dean? Wake up bro'. Dean?"

Normally Sam would expect Dean to have woken in full fight mode as soon as the bed dipped due to him sitting down. This appeared to be more than simple sleeping. Sam re-directed his efforts, patting Dean non to lightly on one cheek and raising his voice.

"_Dean_! C'mon dude. Open your damn eyes for me, you're worrying me. _Please_ Dean!"

-o-

He didn't register the words, but Sam's tone was concerned, afraid and, it was enough to get through. Dean fought to comply with his younger brother's demands, finally slowly blinking his heavy eyelids open, to see Sam's anxious face hovering right above him.

"M'awake, you c'n stop hittin' me now if'n you like."

"Dean! Thank Christ. Where the Hell have you been and, how'd you get back here?"

Dean held out an arm and Sammy grabbed hold of it, helping Dean to sit up. Dean's voice still sounded sleepy.

"Sammy? He here?"

"There's no-one else here Dean. It's just you and me. Where did you go?"

Dean's eyes were now fully opened and he gazed up at his over tall brother.

"One word. Pantomime...Get any clocks chimin' for you?"

-o-

Sam carried two mugs of steaming coffee to where Dean sat hunched up at the four seater dining table. Dean accepted his gratefully, wrapping both hands around the mug, enjoying the feeling of warmth spreading through his fingers and palms. Sitting down opposite his brother, Sam focused for a while on a group of three small bubbles slowly drifting in circles on the surface of his coffee. His tone when he spoke was a mixture of incredulity and sadness.

"So. It wasn't some whacked out dream then? We were _really_ there? With Jess and Jo?"

"I already told you. Yes, we were really there. But don't forget, they might've looked and sounded like our girls, but they weren't the real deal...Still, remember how they looked at the ball?"

Sam smiled wistfully.

"Yes. Yes, I do. Like beautiful brides..._Beautiful_. Oh, and Crowley? In that bright yellow bellboy outfit? Oh man! Charlie sure made for a feisty fairy though, didn't she?"

Dean grinned and nodded.

"That she did! Although I'm pretty sure I'm gonna be havin' nightmares after seein' Cas, Bobby and..._Dad_...In drag! I'm sooo lookin' forward to tellin' Bobby what he wore!"

"You're going to _tell_ him?"

"Hell yeah! ... Speaking of, at the end, when I was the only one still there? The Trickster, moron that he is, asked if we'd do him a favour! He wanted one of us to say goodbye to Bobby for him. It felt...Hell, whatever. I ain't about to do the sonovabitch no favours, whatever they are."

"Odd though. What do you make of it?"

"Dunno but, like I said. He can forget us doin' any favours. I _did_ point out to the asshat that he'd stopped things before the last section. You know? Where the prince goes off looking for whoever fits the slipper, eventually finds the Cinderella chick, slipper fits and they get hitched."

"And?"

Dean shrugged, although confusion clouded his face.

"Said some crap about the last act not being meant for us. He asked if I wanted to know why, but no way I was hangin' around. I needed to get back here, check you were ok. ... Any ideas about what he could've been thinkin?"

Sam stood up from the table, his eyes telling Dean that Sam was mentally probing the possibilities whilst he went to re-fill their coffees. Dean stayed quiet, his own thoughts returning to the sensation of skimming across the dance floor, Jo held in his arms, her eyes smiling up at him whilst their bodies moved in perfect time with each other.

-o-

Dean was startled from the memory by a polite cough from Sam who was holding a fresh mug of coffee out to him. Annoyingly Dean felt his cheeks flush red and Sam smiled.

"Happy thoughts?"

Dean grabbed the coffee out of Sam's hand.

"Get lost, Samantha. You any thoughts on what that damn Trickster meant yet?"

Sam held Dean's questioning gaze and nodded.

"Yeah. I think I _do_ know why he stopped things where he did, _and_ why the magic of the pantomime still let us go, despite us not finishing the performance."

"Ok. I'm listenin'."

"Well. That last bit? Remember how we figured all pantomimes have one thing in common? One thing that is always consistent, no matter what?"

Dean stared at his younger brother and, as realisation dawned, a sadness was reflected in the green of his eyes. When he answered, his voice was soft and in his heart, he recognised the almost certain truth of what he hadn't allowed the Trickster to voice.

"Yeah Sammy, I remember. _And they all lived happily ever after_. Hunters rarely get to experience that, do they? ... _Happily ever after_ ... So. I guess what the Trickster had yet another honest moment, gettin' to be a habit for him...That part of the panto? The last bit of the story? It's just like the little twerp said it was. The last act, it really _was _never meant for me and you, little brother ... Was it?"

**-o-o-o-o-**

**END**

I hoped to write something different when I began this fic, and I have to say it actually then shot off in directions that I hadn't planned for at all! Even so, I hope I've achieved what I initially set out to do, and I_ really_ hope people have enjoyed it **:**o

_With special __**Thanks **__to __**Mb64**__ and to __**Flygirl**__ - You're the best!_ Chick xxx


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